The Endless Pursuit of Perfection
by Nitramy
Summary: Thanks to a rogue asteroid hijacking Taylor's trigger event, she ends up trading her bug control for an entirely new set of powers: fabulous poses, musical references and bizarre adventures are in store for Brockton Bay's newest super heroine! Also Roundabout by Yes!
1. Brockton Bay's Newest Heroine!

**disclaimer:** none of this is mine.

* * *

 ** _The Endless Pursuit of Perfection_**

 **A Worm x JoJo's Bizarre Adventure story**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Brockton Bay's Newest Heroine**

* * *

I don't remember the locker.

Well, I do, but it's a jumble of colors, feelings, and sounds.

I find it really odd, because it's supposed to be a trigger event, and trigger events are the worst days of a person's lives, right?

For some reason, what I remember more is the swirling fractals in space.

Words, no, concepts, are in my mind.

 _Destination, agreement, trajectory, agreement._

Then an asteroid wanders in and crashes the party.

 **PERFECTION.**

More precisely, the asteroid tears through the fractals and runs straight into me.

And at the moment of impact... that's when I wake up in the hospital room.

* * *

I was never "attractive" in the conventional sense.

I am a bit too tall, I have a face that can be generously described as ordinary, I seem to be catching the bus called 'puberty' a little later than usual…

…and until the locker, I was being picked on by school by the popular girls.

Yeah, it's a cliché. I know. Watching it and living it are two different things, though.

It's several days after the locker, and I've already been sent home. Dad is asking me whether I should go back to Winslow, but I asked him for some time to think about my immediate future.

He kind of broke down and asked me to forgive him, because he hasn't been quite the same person since mom died. It's weird. I said it was okay, that we'd be okay, and that we'll come out of this stronger.

I kind of didn't expect it to be literal in my case, though.

Like the time when I told myself in the shower that "I wish I had a figure men and women would drool at in envy", and stepped out of it looking like a veritable Greek goddess, all supple curves with rigid musculature underneath them… I freaked out.

Thankfully, before Dad could come up and ask what was going on, I was able to return to normal, too-tall and too-thin butter-face Taylor Hebert, the perennially downtrodden girl at Winslow High School.

And it took me until bedtime to realize that holy shit, I have powers. I'm a cape or something!

* * *

During the weeks off I was given to "rest and recover" from the locker incident, I read up on all the cape literature I could.

All my research led me to a hypothesis: I was some sort of biological Tinker whose powers only worked on myself.

After a few failed attempts at trying to deliberately modify my appearance, a suggestion from the PHO forums said that "meditation sometimes helps".

I took the suggestion a bit facetiously, as how would one be able to learn to change one's self with some weird breathing exercise?

That was when the man started appearing in my dreams, and the voice started speaking to me.

* * *

 _You are worthy._

* * *

It was but a few days before school began anew, and I was hard pressed to figure out how to replicate that shower feat I did several weeks ago – changing my appearance would be a very good way to avoid running into the Trio when I do return to Winslow.

I was spending most of my early mornings jogging, and at the Boat Graveyard working on my powers.

Meditation didn't seem to help me, and I was at the end of my rope.

* * *

 _I'm not talking about breathing, my daughter._

 _I'm talking about_ _ **breathing.**_

* * *

That was when I put my arm through several inches of steel with one frustrated punch.

I was in awe, when I looked at my arm, surrounded by a yellow haze, with sparks flying from it.

It was at that moment that I decided that, fuck it, I would be a hero and do my best to make this world a better place.

* * *

 _You've found your obsession._

 _I don't approve of it, but we are one and the same now._

 _Your obsession becomes your power, my daughter._

* * *

Progress came swiftly after that, as with further experimentation I found out that I could vary my rate of **breathing** and strike harder than usual, and I could change my appearance in a flash if I was breathing properly before the need arose.

The weekend before my return to Winslow, I had gotten **breathing** down pat, and could now change my physical appearance easily.

It wasn't quite Carrie level revenge on the Trio, but I had long since discarded their treatment of me to the bargain bin.

I was going to be a hero, and no scary teenagers were going to get in my way.

...but I suppose that would have to wait, since in my sleep, I apparently cut my bed in two because a freaking blade popped out of my arm while I was sleeping.

* * *

"You gonna be ok, kiddo?" Dad asked me as he puts another couple rashers of bacon on my plate.

"I will be," I answer. We have breakfast earlier than most, because I already told Dad that I plan to jog to school, and his job at the Dockworkers' Union requires him to be there at the crack of dawn. "Another long day at the office?"

"It's shaping up to be one," my father replied. "You know what time of the year it is."

I nod, and we have breakfast in silence.

Half an hour later, I see my father off to work, and I put on my jogging outfit, the clothes I wear for school in another bag, and begin my daily exercise routine, doing the long jog towards Winslow High School.

If someone told you that "a wretched hive of scum and villainy" was the best phrase to describe Winslow, I would have asked for a few moments to think before agreeing with you.

Mind you, it wasn't because of the Trio, but because this school is, well, to put it kindly, a fucking dump.

Gangs upon gangs and cliques within cliques litter this school, another part of the eponymous school-to-prison pipeline that my dad constantly rants and rails about whenever we watch the evening news.

There were used up drug syringes lying around, ethnic gangs wearing their colors proudly and getting into fights, and yes, the clichéd "cheerleader making out with football team captain under the bleachers" scene which I once glimpsed out of the corner of my eye, when I was still (comparatively) innocent.

I still see those two in between classes, and they still haven't gotten why I give them a wag of the eyebrow each time they pass me by.

As I pass by the entrance and see the sea of humanity walking along the halls, I let out a breath, and step forward.

* * *

I haven't actually seen to getting my locker changed, so the only thing I brought to school was a notebook and a pencil, aside from my running outfit, which I changed out of after I snuck into the girls' swim team showers.

Yes, being able to disguise myself as one of the last remaining swimmers in our school team finally paid off.

Doing some last minute modifications to make it different and I was easily in my classroom unmolested by the trio.

The first thing Dad noticed about me was that I was being really good at analyzing things. When there was a news report of another parahuman-led grooming gang being broken up, my first observation was "if they're serious about this 'all beliefs are equal', why are they giving this gang special treatment?". What followed was a discussion about government policy, law enforcement, and the PRT.

Dad said he'd at least try to pull some strings so I could get a GED and not have to worry about the trio.

Because right now, classes are starting to get stagnant and boring – I process lectures at an unbelievably fast rate, and when Gladly called me while I was looking out the window, I answer his question more or less perfectly.

Which reminds me, while I'm being left to my devices, allow me to introduce the Trio.

First, there's Madison Clements – she's the girl two seats to my right, because as soon as I entered this room, I felt a compulsion towards the second-to-the-last seat by the window. Greg Veder normally sat there, but when he saw me beat him to the spot, I just gestured to the seat to my right, and he went there.

Back to what I was talking about. Madison is the spotter of the trio; she only says really mean things when the other two get it going. She's also the one who does the most 'property damage': taking my things, throwing things at me, and right now, she's about to dump some pencil shavings on my head.

That's odd. As soon as she tips over her hands, my perception of time seems to move a lot slower. I take this opportunity to stand up and let her dump the pencil shavings on my now empty seat.

"Mr. Gladly, the PRT's policy on parahuman criminals isn't idealistic – it's pragmatic. There's a historical precedent set that 'in times of crisis, expediency rules', and the Endbringers have been an on-and-off crisis for humanity as a whole. You could even extend the unwritten rules to this policy of expediency," I said as soon as I stood up.

"That is a very... insightful thing you have just said, Miss Hebert," the teacher said. "Miss Clements, did you mistake your classmate's seat for the garbage bin?"

I completely disregard the malicious look she's sending my way, and tell her, "the bin's over there, Madison."

After a quick smattering of laughter and Madison placing the pencil shavings where they ought to be, I sit back down and continue thinking... only to be interrupted when I turn to see the seat beside me turned towards me instead of the board.

"Group work, Greg?" I ask without looking, and he answers a quick "yes".

The rest of the period passes by without much disturbance, probably because I had Greg hand over our paper.

* * *

I carefully place myself between several students as I use my powers to change my appearance again, this time to evade the two girls coming my way, apparently being alerted by Madison.

And thus let me introduce you to the other two members of the trio: Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess.

Sophia's the school track star. And apparently skilled in the ancient art of "running away", so says the man in my dreams when I mentioned that fact. She also likes tripping, kicking, and hitting, where the school's cameras can't see, and speaking this tripe about being a predator and survivor.

Bitch please, this isn't the Lord of the Flies, you're not Holden Caulfield, even if Holden Caulfield somehow turned into a young black woman.

I'm willing to bet good money that she was the one who pushed me into the locker, Madison was the one who came up with the locker… and Emma was the one who had the idea in the first place.

I myself am a bit surprised at how detached I am in describing Emma Barnes.

Once upon a time, she was my friend.

And when we transferred to Winslow, she turned on me.

It… still hurts to think that how someone I spent my childhood with turned out to be the one to stab me in the back… repeatedly.

By now it's receded to a dull ache that weighs me down at times, along with the need to know why.

I'm also betting Sophia had something to do with this, given how Emma's parroting Sophia's way of thinking.

It's a shame, though. Emma's a very nice-looking girl, the kind who bloomed early and is now getting all the positive attention.

With Sophia and Madison around her? Queen Bee of Winslow. Dad's a high-powered defense attorney. Models on the side.

 _But the brighter a person is on the outside, the more shadowy and sinister she really is on the inside. You've seen this, haven't you, Taylor?_

A nondescript blonde in a French braid sneaks out of the crush of students into the canteen, and I can hear Emma's frustration at not finding me – she's taking it out a bit on Madison. Poor girl. I hope she doesn't rip her apart the same way she did me.

 _You seem oddly capable of mercy. I would not._

If only because if that girl triggers, she'd probably do something really stupid. It's not completely out of what little kindness in my heart I have left.

* * *

It's when I'm having my pita wrap in one of the school bathrooms that I make a breakthrough on my abilities.

One, I could sense the trio were coming long before they made it inside.

Two, when I whispered something, it was in someone else's voice completely.

Three, when I said "Occupied" in that melt-in-your-mouth contralto, they left without a word.

Interesting, I thought as I finished off the last of my lunch and changed my appearance to a blue-eyed, dark-haired girl in a red blouse.

Four, I could also modify what I was wearing.

How about that?

* * *

Classes continued without a hitch as I was able to elude the trio thanks to my newly-found extra powers.

Wouldn't you know it, I had one day of school free of their annoyance.

Having powers is pretty damn good, in my opinion.

It was when I returned home that I started looking up ways to defend myself. If I was going to be a hero, I'd have to start working on what I knew to be standard hero stuff. A costume ( _no capes_ ), a gimmick… and other things.

The shape shifting skill I had would do wonders for my disguise.

First, change my body into that one from before – the Greek goddess one – and then add the costume.

Maybe a gauntlet where my arm blades can pop out of?

Armor that's light and strong. Spider silk or something similar. Bits of yellow to mask that weird aura stuff I channel during breathing. Maybe a gray color scheme? Nah, too Alexandria.

Hmm.

How about some bits of purple and yellow?

I spend the rest of the night doodling up costume ideas while waiting for Dad to come home.

* * *

Dad came home late, and unlike before, he was just tired, not drunk.

I quickly put the sketch book away before tending to him, bringing out a cup of decaf coffee and reheating tonight's dinner, while he told stories about the day's work.

"...I know he's part of the Empire, and that he's being coerced to spy on his fellow dock workers. His daughter's in Winslow, too, and they might go after her out of general principle," Dad explained.

"What would be required for him to escape the Empire's yoke?" I asked aloud. "Any action on his behalf would lead to retaliation against his daughter, and vice versa. The Empire has this racket covered very well... unless you're deliberately giving him flawed intelligence and planning around it?"

"Best I can do to keep the union and his family safe, kiddo."

We finish dinner.

"Taylor, you know that I've been trying to be a better dad as of late," he began after finishing his coffee. "If there's anything you need to tell me, I'll listen."

A minute passes by before I finally speak.

"Dad..." I begin, "I think I have powers or something."

My father did not look at all perturbed at this declaration.

"What do you mean?"

I told him everything, including the wrecked bed.

* * *

"Now I really have to work overtime to get you that GED or out of Winslow," my father said as soon as I finished my explanation. "It simply will not do if you somehow lose your temper and cause an incident with those three girls. But there is one thing that bothers me: why doesn't Alan seem to know what's going on with his daughter?"

"I've been trying to figure that one out myself," I answer. "How did you know?"

My father just scratched the back of his head.

"That time with the news. Grown-ups don't figure out those things as fast and as objectively as you did."

"But are you okay with me being a hero, or something?"

Daniel Hebert shakes his head.

"I will never be okay with my little girl putting herself in danger for others," he says. "Which means, I have to make sure you are at your best whenever you head out."

"You mean-?"

"We'll work on your hero thing together, little owl."

I positively sparkled in the dimly-lit dining room, because it would mean Dad would spend less time doing overtime and more time with me.

It was selfish, admittedly, but this was the best thing I heard from him since Mom died.

* * *

Close to three months have passed, and Dad and I have collaborated on figuring out the extent of my powers.

We quickly found out in the Boat Graveyard of my second power: my ability to shape shift seemed to be an offshoot of my ability to regenerate.

It took a bunch of gun-toting Merchants for us to figure that one out – my father swore that he lost several years of his life when he saw me take several bullets to the torso. And then after that scare, I stood back up like it was nothing, my wounds closed, and the Merchants were quickly dealt with.

From there, we tested everything: the blades on my arms, the biological armor we designed, the mask I wore to conceal my identity, and the powers I gained whenever I **breathed** ; that took the form of a yellow aura that crackled whenever it was active.

First time I tested it out with my father watching, I put another hole in a shipwreck with just a punch.

"Best work on how to minimize the effects of that aura if you want to use it against unpowered opponents," Dad said, and thus we spent time on testing the limits this yellow aura had.

As a positive side effect, Dad seemed to be a lot more energetic as soon as he learned how to **breathe** , when I explained to him how the process worked. He didn't have the yellow aura, but Dad found lifting and moving things to be easier when breathing the same way I did.

And now, I'm about to head out wearing an ordinary outfit and looking like ordinary Taylor Hebert, only to change in the shadows to what I know to be my heroic form, with my dad hovering over me and doing some last minute checks.

"Costume?"

"Check."

"Taser?"

"Check."

"Pepper Spray?"

"Check."

"Three quarters for emergency phone booth contact?"

"Check."

"When facing a parahuman?"

"If I'm overpowered, I should run away."

"Okay, you're ready. If tonight's test sortie is successful, we're going straight to the PRT and getting you into the Wards."

I nod at my father.

"By the way, dad, how is it that you know just as much about parahumans as I do?"

"Your mother used to run with a villain named Lustrum," he explained.

He never said any more – I understood what he meant.

"See you in a couple hours then, Dad?"

"Take care of yourself out there, Taylor. Be home safe."

"Will do, Dad."

I could tell him to go to sleep but he'd be up all night worrying about me, so I just give him a hug before I step out into the night.

* * *

Five minutes in, I hit pay dirt. Several ABB goons were making their way to the Docks. It didn't take a genius to be able to get close enough to hear what they were saying.

"...boss has been on edge ever since the Ruby got hit..."

"...we finally have them run down..."

"...it's a matter of honor..."

When I finally gained enough information as to what was going on, I decided to make my move. One slight flex of my powers and I was in the same jeans-jacket-mask ensemble the goons had, and I entered into step with them.

"Oi, Nobu," the first goon asked, this one had a shotgun, "what took you so long?"

"This and that," I reply. "How much did the Ruby lose?"

"Nearly all of its liquid assets," Goon #2 replied, this one had an assault rifle. "Dammit, it wasn't even one of ours. The Boss just used it as a front to keep our salary. Shit. Guess we'll be living off instant ramen for the next two weeks."

"That sucks," I say, empathizing. "You guys know who did it?"

"Yep," Goon #1 said, hefting his shotgun, "and we're going to show them why nobody messes with the ABB."

* * *

I grimly nod along and go with them to the Docks.

It took us about fifteen minutes to take the walk to where the rest of the Azn Bad Boyz gathered, and on the way I was picking up tidbits of information the other two goons were saying. Once there, their leader was on a perch and bellowing out instructions.

"You will all coordinate properly," I heard him say. "Do not shoot to kill. Herd the children to where Lee and I will move and deal with them accordingly. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" the gathered ABB goons replied in unison.

"We have them pinned down. Just follow the plan and we will regain what we have lost," Lung, the dragon of Kyushu, said. "Disperse! You, new guy, with me."

The man pointed a finger at me before going down from his perch and moving behind one of the containers, where I cautiously followed him.

As soon as I turned the corner, I saw him in a stance, hostility oozing off him. "Are you here to stop us?" he asked, his eyes beginning to smolder.

* * *

"No," I answer. "But the Ruby isn't run by you or your group."

"It is a legitimate business I own," Lung replies. "But you know the prevailing attitude towards villains and warlords owning businesses, even in a city like this."

"Either a dummy corporation or a figurehead answering to you," I speak my thoughts out loud, "I heard from your subordinates. Nearly everything liquid was lost. I can understand the need for reprisal."

"Then you have to step aside. This is a matter of **honor**."

"Honor's worth nothing if not tempered with reason," I retort.

Lung laughed, sending tongues of flame into the air with each guffaw. "I like your spirit! Show your true form. Perhaps we can settle this later."

My disguise instantly shifts into my "hero" outfit: gray armor with purple and yellow accents, and a helmet that looks like a granite mask, my brown hair flowing free in the night breeze.

"I could smell you coming here," he said. "But I will deal with you later. I need to make a statement, that no one steals from the Dragon of Kyushu and lives to regret it."

"Be my guest," I reply, and I leave him to his business. "How sure are you that this night will end with no loss of life?"

"I am a dragon!" Lung roared. "I am no tiger that cannot gauge his own strength. You will inevitably pay for your impertinence in the future."

"if you're targeting children for this deed, I think I want to pay it forward now, Lung," I say, going into a stance. "How about we fight for the right to see who confronts these children you are talking about?"

"And you would lose."

"If I win, I'll still get you what you've lost back, and everyone walks away with no one the wiser."

"A good offer."

He roars.

"Let me see if you can back it up!"

Oni Lee gives a hand signal, and the ABB goons quickly disperse to the outskirts of the docks.

Lung jumps down from the container and walks towards me, cracking his knuckles.

Party time.

* * *

Kenta

* * *

This armored woman is unlike any hero I have seen.

She does not smell like any hero or villain I have run into.

Heroes and villains smell of their need to be a hero or villain.

This woman does not. She disregards me with a lightly amused insouciance, almost as if I am her equal instead of her superior.

"Let's dance!" she says, and sparks begin to appear from her armor.

"Ladies first," I try to say, but my transformation has already distorted my voice.

She moves in with unbelievable speed, cocks her fist back…

…the next thing I know, I am regenerating half of my side as I try to get up from an container that's been crushed like a tin can.

So, this woman is strong!

* * *

Taylor

* * *

He's going to have to get up from that.

Lung's too strong to be taken out in one blow.

Granted, I gathered as much of the power I could from breathing and just slammed it into the side of his face with my fist.

But damn, that's some damage. I blew off half of him away, and he's regenerating.

Instead of roaring in anger, is that joy I'm sensing from him?

Is he… happy to fight me?

"GOO'!" he roars, and the Dragon of Kyushu begins to transform, only this time, he's trying to control the way his power is escalating.

He's focusing his power.

He sees a real fight!

Okay, Taylor, let's give this guy what he wants!

The dragon charged in, clawed hands outstretched, and with a swipe, take off several layers of my armor.

It would have been lethal had I not stepped back at the right time, and halt his advance with a jab to the face.

He sees my power regenerate the armor I've lost, and smiles a very reptilian grin as he presses the attack.

"Oh, so you're upgrading to claws now, huh?" I ask. "Well, two can play at that game!"

A curved blade erupts from each of my arms, and I use them to block the clawed swipes, only to get knocked back when the tail he suddenly grew smashes into me like a gigantic whip.

I recover in a flash, and move forward in an erratic zigzag pattern to counterattack, and telegraph a punch.

His posture changes and I take that chance to channel my yellow aura to one of my blades, causing the Brockton Bay night to become day for a second.

Lung grabs his eyes in consternation, and I take the chance given to bury several crackling punches in his solar plexus before retreating from another tail swipe.

But as soon as I make it to what I think is a safe distance, his tail grabs a container slab and hurls it towards me.

I stop thinking and immediately calculate my next move: summon my aura to my palms to help block the attack and redirect the slab back at him, this time saturated with that electric-like power I'm using.

It ends up working even better than I thought, as Lung's tail fails to account for the extra oomph the slab had when I returned it, and the Dragon of Kyushu ended up losing a tail for his trouble.

He doesn't bother to regenerate it as he charges and throws a punch, which I meet with my own.

I cannot believe how fun this is.

I'm all smiles under the mask, and I can see Lung's draconic face also in a grin.

After an attempt to kick me which I easily dodge and retaliate with my own, we both back up.

We are both breathing heavily after that exchange.

"Oo' goo'," he says.

"You're not too bad yourself," I reply, and then I could hear one of the goons shouting.

"PRT's here, make a run for it!"

We both turn to the source and see and hear the sirens coming. Probably a hero, if what the goon says is true.

"Sorry, Lung. Can't play no more," I say, and the dragon grunts in frustration, smoke coming out of his nostrils.

He signs towards Oni Lee to create a diversion while the other unpowered ABB goons are scampering off like flies, and as the sirens loom closer, he takes a deep breath and reverts to his unpowered self.

"You win for now," Lung says, "but I want my money. And a rematch."

I smirk at him under the mask.

"You got it," I reply; with surprising speed, the Dragon of Kyushu makes his exit, and by the time the Tinker tech motorcycle pulls up to me, I am standing alone in the docks, with nothing but foot tracks, drying blood, and wrecked containers keeping me company.

* * *

The PRT hero known as Armsmaster was once one of my favorite childhood heroes (top five – more like top three. Still won't top Mouse Protector, though), and he was now alighting from his motorcycle, stance clearly defensive as he steps towards me.

"We received word of a disturbance in the docks. Reports were that Lung was fighting an unknown parahuman. Are you that unknown?"

Maybe because I was still somehow a fan, I nodded, not trusting my voice to break or my childhood hero worship to show up at the worst possible time.

"What about Lung?"

I take about half a minute to recover my composure (a new record) before I reply.

"I fought him off. He escaped," I answer, trying my best to be nonchalant. "Even did the whole 'I'll be back, rawr,' thing."

Yes, I raised my hands and made them look like claws while I modified my voice to sound more like Lung, just for the added immersion.

"Readings say inconclusive," I can make out Armsmaster whispering to the helmet receiver. "And your reason for fighting him is?"

"He said there were children he and his gang were hunting down. I goaded him to a fight, given his... confrontational tendencies," I reply. "Gave more than I got, even."

"Readings say correct."

Another whisper.

"I see. Does that mean you are interested in becoming a hero?"

I smile at him under my mask.

"That's what I've stuck around for," I say proudly. "Tonight was supposed to be my coming-out party. Well, given what I've accomplished, I think it still counts."

The blue-armored hero nods at me.

"Very well," he replies, before he reaches into a compartment in his belt and hands me over a calling card. "Show that to the desk officer and I'll walk you through the registration process myself. What name do you want to use?"

I take a moment before giving my answer.

"…for now, call me Obelisk."

"All right. When can I expect you at the PRT?"

"This coming weekend," I reply. "Morning, around nine am or so."

Somehow the tension I feel from him abates, and he gets back on his motorcycle.

"Looking forward to it, Obelisk."

He revs up his cycle and leaves me to my thoughts.

Looks like tonight's little excursion was a success: I've proven I can hang with the big guns with my Lung fight, Armsmaster was a bit abrasive but seemed interested in me joining up and invited me…

…but there are still a few loose ends I need to tie up.

I head to my next destination.

* * *

Tattletale

* * *

We were about two-thirds of the way home when a shadow burst through the moonlight above us.

 _Pursuer._

And then the parahuman who had fought off Lung stood in the middle of the road, blocking our path.

"Good evening," she said in a deep, sultry voice. "We need to talk."

Grue was about to give orders to keep going, but something in the back of my mind said that was a terrible idea. I put a hand on his shoulder, and shook my head, stopping him.

After he told Rachel to halt, all of us alighted as I stepped forward to start talking to the female parahuman who had saved our bacon from Lung.

* * *

Taylor

* * *

"What's there to talk about?" the young woman in the black-and-lavender bodysuit asks. "Other than 'thanks for the assist against Lung', but that goes without saying."

"You're welcome," I reply. "But you know this comes with strings attached."

"You mean you're not helping us out of the goodness of your heart?" the kid in the renaissance fair costume asked.

"It's just a bunch of questions, nothing more," I tell them. "And then we go our separate ways, for now."

They don't seem convinced.

"What kind of questions?" the running back asks, and I raise my hands in a gesture of nonviolence.

"The kind of questions that will help untangle this," I reply. "Like, your group doesn't do massive ops or require extensive props like Uber and Leet do. Ruby's liquid assets were decimated."

The giant dogs that were apparently a byproduct of Hellhound's abilities were beginning to growl as the tension on the street began to rise.

Heck, add a Western theme and it would be perfect, but that's not what I'm going for right now.

"I think I already know what needs to be known," I announce. "Like the saying, 'ask me no questions and I tell you no lies', isn't that right, Tattletale?"

She laughs nervously.

"You've done your homework."

"Any aspiring hero needs to do their homework, you know," I reply before stepping to the sidewalk. "It's been fun meeting my first group of villains without it ending up in a fight. I'll see you around."

They hop on Hellhound's giant dogs and leave even faster than before.

Yeah, this is good. I have a mystery to solve, a registration to go to, and a fight I won.

Tonight's not so bad for a hero making her debut.

I retreat to the shadows and emerge as a random person before transforming to Taylor Hebert in an alley not too far from home.

When I enter the front door, my father is still going over a few notes we had made about the villain groups in the city.

He definitely needs to know how I plan to work on the gangs – either legitimize or neutralize them.

* * *

Lisa

* * *

"Okay, what the fuck was that all about?" Brian asked me the moment we entered the hideout, and I found myself thinking back to what I discovered about the mysterious new parahuman we encountered.

 _Didn't fight Lung to keep us from danger._

 _Fought Lung for the right to ask us about the Ruby Dreams incident._

 _Will try to find a way to keep Lung away from us in the future by strong-arming us… or appearing to._

"She knew, Brian," I reply, taking off the mask before I head to the dresser and snag a paper towel to wipe the cold sweat off my face. "I don't know how much she knew, but she knows we're not as independent as we advertise."

 _She's probing._

 _She already knows some of the answers._

 _She's solved half of the puzzle, some of it even before meeting Lung._

 _She's dangerous._

 _Very dangerous._

"Shit," Brian said.

"But we still owe her," I add. "I think she's planning to meet us again, when things are not so hot. She has some sort of proposal for us based on what I read from her."

"Do you think it's a trap?"

"If it was, then she would have taken us out and dragged us to the PRT," I reply.

 _Everybody has a story to tell._

The bits of information I gained from this unknown cape was proving to be… wait a moment, she's been leading me along! Does she know what my powers are?

"Okay," I say. "Okay. We'll set up a meeting. Find out what's really going on… we'll need to scope out a place with easy escape vectors in case we have to run, and quickly."

"Is there something you're not telling us about this cape, Lisa?"

I shake my head.

"I have a hunch but I won't be sure until I meet her again," I tell Brian. "We do owe her, though."

 _My favorite hero is Mouse Protector._

"Lunchboxes again?" Alec asks me.

"Yeah," I reply as I reach for the Mouse Protector lunch box. "Our gesture needs to be… thoughtful."

* * *

Taylor

* * *

Dad was looking through the notes we gathered and adding some remarks of his own as I wound down the story of what had happened when I ran into Lung, Armsmater, and the Undersiders.

"Good work on your first night out," Dad finally said after he was finished taking notes. "What do you think will be happening over the next couple of weeks? Big picture."

"Ruby Dreams was meant as a way to lure Lung out into the open," I begin. "What little I've picked up from talking to and fighting Lung… I still have to verify if he's using the other gangs as an excuse to not go legit."

"Go on."

I look up to the ceiling.

"The Undersiders aren't as independent as they say they are. They're cogs in the machine. The real big fish is the one pulling their strings."

"How do you know someone's doing that?"

"There weren't any huge purchases or stunts done in the aftermath of the Ruby heist," I explain. "Which means the funds went somewhere. It's either deposited somewhere for safe keeping, or used as upkeep for something. Lung corroborated the mook I was talking to, nearly everything liquid in the Ruby was taken."

Dad nods.

"And you went to the Undersiders and implied you knew about this, setting them up for a future meeting where you can fish for more information and indicate that they may be used as pawns in a longer game, thereby diminishing their loyalty to whoever is bankrolling them?"

"That's right, Dad," I answer. "Still, though, I think Lung knows what I plan to do to pay back the funds he lost in the Ruby: beat it out of the Merchants."

My father laughs as he finishes off his cup of coffee and begins fixing the table, arranging the notes so I can read them again later in case we missed something.

"I already feel sorry for those drug runners," my father says. "Anyway, tomorrow's another school day. You can go to the Rig on the weekend, as you promised Armsmaster."

"I'll keep you posted if anything happens in school, Dad," I tell my father before I go upstairs to my room to finally catch some sleep – it had been a long day.

* * *

For the past several days, I've been treating the act of eluding the Trio like a game: go into one hall, change my appearance between students, pop out as a different person, go to the next class with no one the wiser.

Except I now have gym with the Trio and oh boy this is going to be awkward.

Just before the class ends, the three of them end up talking to me.

"So what's the deal with the cheering, Hebert?" Emma begins, and she's already beginning to seethe, as I give her the most 'Who, me?' look I can muster.

"I'm not allowed to cheer for a classmate on the track team? Even if it's Sophia?"

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Hebert," she snipes at me.

"You have the State championships coming up in a week or so," I say. "And I hear Arcadia got someone from Kenya on their track team. You're going to need every cheer you can, even from an insignificant gnat such as myself."

They clearly can't deal with the way I've adapted to their antics – Emma's turning red, Madison looks like a deer in the headlights, and Sophia looks like she wants to punch me.

A minute passes by before I continue.

"It's called 'peace of mind'," I say. "The three of you ought to give it a try sometime. Especially you, Emma. A little guided meditation won't hurt."

I turn and walk away, and I step over Sophia's attempt to trip me easily, leaving them stewing.

* * *

Honestly, the moment Dad and I stumbled onto this conspiracy involving the gangs, my situation at Winslow just dropped on my priority list. There's our trip to the rig to register, my meeting with the Undersiders later, and this...

So much to do, and there are not enough hours in the day to do them...

After gym the trio again try to find me, but keep failing, as I start flexing my Changer powers to change my entire physical appearance, even my gender.

(I have to thank Dad to show me how to walk like a man last month.)

...and now I'm at computer class, where I am reading the PHO boards. I sign in and check the connections…

Just as expected. I see two messages indirectly looking for me.

The first one is from Tattletale, which I quickly reply to – I'm fine with meeting in the afternoon.

The second one is unexpected. An ABB minion is looking for someone who knows the details of the unknown parahuman who fought Lung to a standstill. I also reply to that message and say that the unknown parahuman's liaison will talk to an ABB member in Winslow.

The next class – world affairs under Mr. Gladly – featured more group work, and one of Emma's flunkies – I think her name was Julie or something – tries to steal my work to pass to Emma's, but I deliberately write an essay full of gibberish, purple prose, and false leads.

"Uh, aren't you going to go and try get our paper?" Greg asks me, and we have around ten minutes left before the group work ends and we're made to present our essays in front of the class.

"Already have the essay done in my head," I say. "Just need to write down the valid points. If you're really as knowledgeable about parahumans as you are, Greg, you can fill in the blanks here."

I start writing, and Greg takes notes while we do the crunch-time rally.

Naturally, when it comes time to present, my essay full of crap wasn't even edited, and Emma's group gets a dressing-down from Mr. Gladly.

He may be a flake when it comes to student interaction, but when he sees academic incompetence like that, he becomes a completely different person. Julia glares at me and I just give her a wink in response.

Greg heads up to the front of the classroom, and despite him fumbling the pronouns in the first paragraph, he does a passable presentation of the work he and I did.

As soon as the class ends, Greg asks me if I'm free for lunch at Fugly Bob's – to which I thank him, but I have a lot of things on my schedule. I ask him for a rain check and he nods his head like an overly happy Chihuahua and leaves the classroom. I try to step out, only for Mr. Gladly to call on me.

"I'm not blind," he begins.

"If you wanted to do something about them, you would have done so years ago. There's this saying I picked up on the internet that goes 'for those who want it, there are a million ways; for those who don't, a million reasons'. I'm fine now, sir."

"And you're not going to take them to task?"

"Sir, if there's something I learned since January, it's that the universe tends to unfold as it should. There's no sense in me getting all riled up whenever people give me a hard time."

My smile becomes a bit mischievous because Gladly doesn't know what I'm referencing, and I continue smiling as I leave the classroom, only to run into nearly everyone in Emma's clique.

This is bad. If they gang up on me, they're going to see I regenerate. And I can't shape shift to elude them.

Should I try to bluff my way out?

 _What makes you fear them?_

It's not them I fear, it's what happens afterward. I could just go through them, but that will only make things worse...

 _I see. You want to keep your identities separate._

That's the plan.

 _Let me see you put your intellect to the test under fire, my daughter…_

You're not my dad, you know.

 _Ah, but you are still flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood._

It's the principle of the thing.

* * *

"Bringing the entire student body here, you guys?" I end up asking as I am surrounded. "For disposing of what you call an insignificant gnat, you seem to be going way overboard."

In what is an obviously rehearsed sequence, the girls start saying mean things about me.

The trouble is, I've already heard them say this countless times before.

Dad helped me in dealing with it when I revealed my powers, and said that the more people use their words to hurt others, the less power they have. In his words, "don't give those words a power over you they're not meant to have. Sure it will hurt, and you will want to lash out, but remember: people say hurtful things because it is the thing they are most afraid of."

It allows me to stay calm while everyone is launching into their overused insults towards me.

Couple minutes in, I raise my hand and will them into silence. Oddly enough, everyone in the corridor complies.

"If anyone has a personal problem with me and not because you're just following the Mean Girls here, step up. First shot's free," I announce, dropping my arms.

I close my eyes and expect someone to throw the first punch.

A minute in and I open my eyes, and it's just me and the trio in the corridor.

I raise my arms wide and step forward towards them.

"Well, what is it?"

They're still stunned at my display of sangfroid and I easily walk past them to my next class unmolested.

Wait a minute, that was a lot easier than expected.

 _You've barely scratched the surface of what you can do, you know._

After three months of figuring things out?

 _Oh, it will take more than that, my daughter. A lot longer than that._

The odd voice in my head is laughing softly as I head down the hallway towards my next class. But before I get to English, I pen a note and discreetly palm it to the first ABB-color wearing student.

* * *

Daniel

* * *

Ever since Taylor admitted to me that she gained powers since the locker room, I've had to take a serious look at my life.

From being a better father to learning how to delegate at the Dockworkers' Union and all the way to helping her become a hero.

As it turned out, the Dockworkers' Union were already good enough to work on their own for the most part, leaving me as the "nuclear option" should they need a better negotiator or policy maker in times of crisis (which is to say, since Leviathan, all the time).

The fact that Taylor taught me some guided meditation technique that gave me some sort of energy boost was also a factor – the last time I felt this energetic was in my twenties. I tried doing the breathing a bit longer than usual, and I became uncomfortably energetic that I had to go out for a run.

Now, all my work is done before lunch, and I spend my afternoons reading through Taylor's notes.

One of her scribbles on the Ruby heist caught my eye.

 _Ruby was a dry run. They're going to do a public demonstration within the next few days._

 _If their backer has other teams this is most likely a diversion._

I quickly turn to my computer and start looking through news articles on the Ruby heist. Maybe there was something we missed, something that could help Taylor over the next few days...

* * *

Taylor

* * *

I stop by a pay phone after school (in disguise, of course) and call up Dad, telling him I'm meeting the Undersiders later, and will come home a bit late.

As soon as the call finishes, I take two steps out of the payphone, and a jolt of nausea hits me.

 _What's this?_

While I struggle to gain my bearings I begin to see everything blurred: images of people walking behind themselves, shadows in several shades of colors lighter following them.

And as soon as the nausea passes, so do the shadows.

 _Deja vu?_

Possibly. By the way, you haven't told me who you are yet.

 _Let's just say you haven't earned the privilege to call my name. Get stronger, then you will know it in your heart._

Okay, now I know you're bullshitting me, I tell the voice as I make my way to the warehouse district to where the Undersiders will meet me. You've been reading those comics with me in my spare time.

 _But as you say, it is the principle of the thing._

* * *

Lisa

* * *

I sneak nervous looks at my watch.

The others seem to be picking up on my state, they're a bit on edge.

A few moments later, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding as we hear the sounds of pavement cracking growing louder.

And then a gray blur leaps onto the roof of the building and lands close to us.

 _Perfect superhero landing. Her knees can handle the pounding. Was taught that the image of a superhero is important._

The gray blur reveals itself to be the unknown parahuman who fought off Lung on her own: she's wearing a skintight hero outfit with armor plates at strategic areas, textured like granite, but with purple and yellow accents.

The helmet covering her head looks like a heavily stylized mix of an Earth Aleph thing called a Metal Hero and an ancient Mayan vampire mask, her long brown hair is exposed, waving in the air.

"It's nice of you to show up," I say at the new arrival. "Apologies for not properly introducing ourselves."

Alec grudgingly hands me a hundred, I can feel the heroine's eyes narrow, and I feel an explanation is in order.

* * *

Taylor

* * *

The mask does not hide my smirk.

"You were taking bets on if I showed up in costume?" I ask.

Running back had at least the sense to look guilty, and the blonde answers.

"Or if you showed up at all."

"Showing up in costume is prudent after all," he says, extending his hand. "Brian."

"Lisa," the blonde adds.

"Alec," the renaissance fair guy finishes, "and the girl with the dogs – who is conveniently not here – is Rachel."

"She wasn't too keen on this meeting, I take it?" I ask, reading their body language carefully. I could smell their hesitation, and I nodded. "You should trust your teammate's instincts a lot more."

"Perhaps," Lisa replies, "but that's not just the thing we're here for."

I open the Mouse Protector lunchbox she hands over to me and see the money inside.

"You know, this is considered graft," I say, and Brian interjects. "It's a thank-you present. Lung was out for blood."

"And we kind of want to get on the good side of someone who can punch out half of him in one go," Alec added.

"Well, I didn't exactly fight Lung off out of the kindness of my heart or a desire to be a hero," I reply, and I punctuate my statement by breathing and letting out my power in a brief crack of yellow. "Nice job on the Ruby, by the way."

The mention of the Ruby stops them in their tracks.

"And you want in on something like that?" Lisa asked. "You're going to have to join us, first."

"Thanks for the offer, but that's not what I came here for. Just one or two questions answered. The Ruby was a dry run for your big villainous debut, huh?"

The lack of reply and the sudden change in their heartbeat and breathing I'm sensing means I've struck pay dirt.

"If you'll interfere – "

"Answer this question and I won't," I reply. "The three of you. I've done my homework on Rachel, and the circumstances forced her here. I can see the swords Damocles has hung over your heads."

As soon as I see Lisa's pupils shrink to pinpricks I know I have the Undersiders right where I want them.

I point at Lisa.

"And the hair holding it over you is beginning to fray."

I'm not even finished speaking when darkness begins to envelop me.

By the time it clears, the Undersiders are gone.

I open the lunch box again, and see that the tape used to bind the bills together has scratches on it. I breathe, focus, and carefully make out the letters " d" underlined several times.

Underneath my mask, I smile. My task is finished, and I know the whole story about this fledgling group of villains.

As I see the answers forming in my head, a slew of new questions begin to appear, and I set them aside until I make it home, making sure to add my notes to the intelligence I've gathered when I meet Armsmaster this coming Saturday.

And the moment I get home, I almost pass out on the doorway, as I am besieged by echoes of what look like a private military company going from door to door, apparently looking for someone.

None of this is making sense at all.

I enter my home and see my father poring over some documents.

Maybe I should tell him about today after dinner.

* * *

Nothing much happens the next day, except a Vietnamese student bumps into me, and reverse pickpockets an envelope into my bag.

When I got home, I open the envelope to see a voucher for two cyalumes and a ticket for an event on the weekend titled "433 Pro First Live: Viva Brockton Bay".

I am intrigued by the event name and look it up on the internet to see that it was an idol concert. Something like the NKT-Galactic sponsored group Concert, except these idols aren't parahumans in real life.

They do, however, portray parahuman idols in one of those animated things most of Winslow's student body seem to watch with near-fanatical devotion.

Dad tells me that I should go, but that I should be careful.

It's not yet lunch, but the amount of "echoes" I'm seeing in Winslow is enough to get me to ask the nurse's office for a sick slip and head home early.

As I try to ignore the buzzing in my head, I remember when I told Dad about it.

"You're seeing ghosts?"

"Kinda sorta," I replied at dinner. "They don't look like any ghosts in the movies, they move like people, and after something happens they just disappear. It's really odd."

"You've run into them earlier today?"

"Since a few days ago, while I was walking through town. Bystanders had a ghost of them walking behind them or ahead of them or something. It was really weird."

Dad passed me a note containing a single, critical question.

"Could it be another Gray Boy?"

My eyes widened. That was unexpected. And Gray Boy was one of the most dangerous parahuman villains to ever exist, being able to loop time endlessly for his victims.

 _My people had studied the concept before. Your description of this Gray Boy seems to be what we call an "endless recursion of zero". But..._

But what?

 _You can modify your brain to lower the threshold from which you can see these "echoes", where you can see them. The headaches you are experiencing are also..._

What?

 _Interesting. It seems your condition is a side effect of what we call entropy._

Entropy?

 _Your headaches should go away when you lower your sensitivity to these echoes, or ghosts, as you call them._

I think on it for a moment.

But I won't remove it completely. Maybe they can be useful in the future.

 _Very prudent of you._

I shake my head at my father. Still, it would do to be careful because Brockton Bay may be under the influence of a powerful Master-level cape.

"You may be in over your head, kid," Dad says after he finishes up dinner. "We should find a way to get to the Protectorate with this information."

"There's still something missing in this puzzle. A key piece," I say. "I hope I can find it before the weekend."

It is with these thoughts that I stumble out of Winslow, and remember to focus and breathe, and before I know it, the echoes subside and I am looking at a (mostly) clear street.

With my migraine gone and the rest of the day free for me to go around town, I decide to take my footsteps where they may.

* * *

I was halfway home when I saw the black vans pass me, and I stopped short, as a gigantic burst of what the voice in my head called "entropy" hit me.

 _Follow them?_

Follow them.

I move behind a dumpster and emerge in my heroic outfit, only hidden by a cloak, and quickly leap onto a rooftop, lightening my weight so as to not leave a trace, and follow the vehicles.

Nobody bothers checking the rooftops, and my cloak is constantly changing into the colors of my surroundings, so I am functionally invisible in my pursuit.

What follows when I extend my senses to the interior of the van shocks even me.

"The girl will be at home in five minutes. Intercept her there."

"What about resistance or witnesses?"

"Eliminate them all. Boss' orders."

The blades on my arm extend on impulse.

Kidnapping kids and killing witnesses?

Not on my watch.

"Get ready to move in as soon as we get to the target point."

* * *

Coil's Mercenaries

* * *

It was supposed to be a routine mission: drive to a location, abduct the target, eliminate witnesses, and return to base with our objective.

But as soon as we stop at the objective, everything goes very wrong, very quickly.

Something flashes by the first van, and everything in it is sliced in one fell swoop.

Blood begins to pool inside the van as the first group of mercenaries are killed instantly.

We jump out and try to find the culprit, only to see an armored gray parahuman with a blade on its arm.

"Shoot it! Shoot the fucker!"

Our CO bellows orders, and we try to get into position, but the enemy is just too fast. The sunlight hits the blade and we are all blinded by the flash.

The last thing I see is my body, upside down, with no head.

Then I realize I have been decapitated.

This mission wasn't supposed to turn out like this—

* * *

Taylor

* * *

The neighbors have already emerged from their houses – they've seen me in action.

This wasn't just a bunch of goons, this was a goddamned PMC! Bulletproof armor, laser rifles, burned-off fingerprints based on the goon whose hand I cut off his corpse, three black vans, eight goons a van?

Very professional.

It didn't do my would-be hero reputation good if my identity as Obelisk was revealed as the one behind this carnage – thank goodness I still have the cloak on.

I stomped up to the house these goons were targeting, still in my cloak, and was about to knock on the door when it opened, and a girl of about nine or ten years old looked up at me.

"I knew you'd come for me!" she exclaimed, "the numbers don't lie."

I turned to where the cops were arriving and back at the child.

"Right," I reply.

"Come in, I'll explain," and I follow her within what is presumably her house.

The door closes behind me just as the sounds of sirens start coming closer and closer.

* * *

Dinah

* * *

In the infinite realms of possibility, I throw my powers onto the endlessly swirling cascade of fates and futures, and stake my claim on a single question, to see where it will lead me.

What is the possibility that this parahuman will harm me?

I am cast adrift momentarily, and I feel the sharp spikes of a migraine beginning.

My question is erroneous; I have to ask again, before my head begins to hurt more.

What is the possibility that this person will deliberately harm me right now?

The currents of fate begin to move according to my inquiry.

The chance of this person harming me is at five percent, and dropping slowly.

I lead my savior up the stairs, hiding the sudden surge of pain as I ask the question, and bring her into my room, her cloak keeping her invisible.

And as soon as I lock the door behind her, she emerges from the cloak. She's… underwhelming. For someone who just cut down twenty-four armed mercenaries and looked good doing it, she looks more like a teenage girl out of her depth than the confident heroine she was before.

"First things first," she asks. "Who are you, and why were those men after you?"

"My name is Dinah… Dinah Alcott. And I have special powers."

The girl's eyes dim for a moment before she nods.

"What kind of powers are we talking about here?"

"Numbers," I explain. "I ask a question and a percentage pops out. If I ask an inaccurate or vague question, my head begins to hurt."

This girl buys my explanation. "You didn't think of going to the PRT?"

"66% chance of being abducted if I revealed myself to the Protectorate," I reply.

"Chance that whoever tried this will try to abduct you again?"

I don't even have to pull on my power that much.

"Ninety-five percent."

The girl took a moment to think.

"Chance that your abduction attempt has something to do with the bank robbery happening right this instant?"

That's weird. There are lights in the images that guide me.

"Ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent."

It doesn't hurt as much.

"Chance that whoever is operating the Undersiders is also behind these group of mercenaries?" she asked with a malicious smile.

Is it the question?

"A hundred percent."

Or the person asking them?

"Hmm. Chance the Protectorate and the PRT is compromised?"

All her questions are lining up with the lights, guiding me to the possibilities.

"Eighty-five percent."

If my headaches come from forcing my way through fates and futures...

"Chance that the person operating the Undersiders and this PMC is also employed within the PRT?"

...then right now, I am sailing on a churning sea, with the stars above guiding me.

"Ninety-nine percent."

I notice the faint yellow glow surrounding my savior, extending from her body all the way to her cloak.

"There goes my simple introduction to Armsmaster," she says with a sigh. "And my apologies for not introducing myself... call me Obelisk. Final question: the chance that you will be abducted within the next three days?"

It feels... warm.

"Five percent," I reply, and oddly enough, I find that using my power does not hurt as much. "How do you know so much?"

Obelisk smiles at me.

"Trade secret. But I can and will find a way to see that you can either get help or help yourself. How does that sound?"

"Great! When can I meet you again?"

She waves her hand over her face and the helmet is worn again.

"When you least expect it."

"Dinah! Honey, are you in there?"

I turn to my parents' voices, and when I turn back, Obelisk is gone, leaving me alone in my room and waiting for the knock on the door.

I wonder when I can meet Obelisk again?

* * *

Taylor

* * *

I run across the rooftops at lightning speed, the revelations of this abduction attempt playing in my mind.

This wannabe Fu Manchu has some kind of ability that generates echoes of people, and he's using them with the Undersiders, this PMC, and if he managed to get his filthy hands on Dinah, he would be nearly impossible to stop, because he'd be prepared for any eventuality by asking the right questions.

I do not dare think what sort of measures this... person would resort to in order to get Dinah to cooperate. She's only a child.

The mercenaries were well-equipped and prepared to murder Dinah's parents if they resisted.

Or any witnesses.

Their disregard for life rose up and bit them on the ass when someone who could fight back and how entered the scene.

The sheer weight of the echoes they were carrying along with them as I sensed them pass by earlier makes me think that this Fu Manchu person is the one making these echoes, and I still don't know what they are.

Quickly, I make my way to an abandoned building, where I begin the next phase of unraveling this conspiracy.

* * *

"Rise and shine," I say, and the severed head opens its eyes.

He is about to scream in panic, but I cover his mouth with my face and shush him.

"I will let you die quietly and painlessly," I say to the severed head of one of the mercenaries, "after you answer a few questions. Nod for yes, shake for no."

The severed head nods carefully.

"Did you receive an equipment upgrade around mid to late March of this year?"

He nods.

"Very good," I say. "You're a half-breed, so you can't be Empire or ABB. PMC, so not the Merchants. No powers, so not a part of Faultline's crew or the Travelers."

Interesting. He's reacting to the Travelers.

"That just leaves one name."

He's sweating now. I take my head off his mouth.

"He'll kill me," he says. "He does it. Kills people who fail him."

"Thank you, but you are already dead, because your fear tells me more than you can ever say. As promised, I will make your passage to oblivion painless. Farewell."

With my powers, I put a hand on his head and he closes his eyes.

I turn to the outside of the building, where the sun is shining, and throw the head outside, where it is dissolved into ashes by the midmorning sun almost instantly.

As the breeze blows what remains of the mercenary away, I find myself feeling wistful. I never wanted to end lives like this. This wasn't what I signed for when I decided to become a hero.

 _Taking lives is never easy, my daughter. Even before today._

It still doesn't feel right.

 _This world is diseased,_ the voice tells me. _This town is barely surviving because of the parahumans treating parts of it like their personal fief._

And would killing them solve everything? No, it would only bring more parahumans here. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, so the song says.

 _I agree with you, my daughter. Maybe you do need to be a hero, to be something that inspires even these parahuman warlords to strive for something more, to be a part of something greater than themselves._

 _…but not me, I would want to be in the middle of it._

That's where we differ. Simply being part of something like that is enough reward for me.

 _Indeed. We have made much progress in divining one of the blights in this town you call home._

What should we do next?

 _Gather more information. You have managed to find the scents of the people you need to speak to, do you not?_

I have. And we're going to have to use some more smoke and mirrors so we can turn this schemer's pawns against him.

I don the cloak and leave the building, my next destination well in hand.

* * *

Lisa

* * *

In hindsight, the bank robbery had been very, very close.

It was only when we were making our escape that I managed to put a name to the face of one of the clients of Brockton Bay Central who was there when we made our entrance: the independent superhero Panacea.

A fight did break out, but with the New Wave member part of the initial group of hostages Brian let go, it didn't go as bad as I thought: everything went according to plan.

We didn't escape unscathed, though. That bitch Shadow Stalker put another one in Brian, Alec has a mild concussion, and I think two of my teeth are loose from where I got a glancing hit from Aegis, that punk.

Still, after a night at Doctor Q's, we should be good to go. With the damage to my jaw fixed quickly and easily, I had Brian look after the rest of the team while I went topside and informed the boss of our success.

He didn't sound happy, but said he would look into delegating to other teams so that multiple tasks could be accomplished.

That was when a voice called to me behind my back.

"Hello, Lisa," the familiar voice said, and I felt my life flash before my eyes.

* * *

Taylor

* * *

"It's so good to see you!" I say out loud in a mock valley girl accent as I place my arm around Lisa's shoulder. "Like, I have no idea where you've been, but we have to make up for lost time! Come on."

"You knew we were going to the bank, weren't you?" Lisa whispers at me.

"Of course, girlfriend!" I reply, still wearing the valley girl accent before I drop it to a whisper. "You had something scheduled for Thursday. And knowing that you have a benefactor, well… you don't need to be a Thinker 12 to know that your little stunt was a diversion."

Thankfully, we are at the Boardwalk, and the people around us only see two girl friends walking together towards the nearest clothing store.

I carelessly move towards the lingerie section and grab several sets of underwear and a pair or two of swimsuits and drag the brains of the Undersiders' to a nearby changing room.

As soon as the room closes, I drop the facade.

"I already know who you're working for," I begin as I turn Lisa around and hand her a swimsuit. "And the circumstances that brought the Undersiders together."

"See, the problem I have is that the four of you are complicit in the attempted abduction of a twelve-year-old girl."

I see Lisa's horrified expression in the mirror.

"And not just any twelve-year-old girl," I add. "Dinah Alcott."

"...fuck."

"Exactly. This is the kind of asshole you're working for. But… I have another proposition. I can help you remove him and make the Undersiders truly independent."

She turns panicked eyes at me. "You wouldn't do such a thing out of the kindness of your heart," she replies.

"Not really," I say. "If this is just a game of cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, dungeons and dragons, I want to be the game master. Do you understand?"

Lisa nods, hesitating.

"And right now, if I want to be a hero, I need villains that will cooperate with me. No, the purple swimsuit is too revealing. Wear something with ruffles, your hips look bony."

I give her the white swimsuit with the ruffled skirt and the blue polka dots.

"You don't have to give me an answer immediately. Talk to your team and weigh your options over. Just remember that I can wait. Coil won't."

With that we leave the changing room, and I pay for Lisa's swimsuit.

"See you later, girlfriend," I say, and give her a playful smack on the butt before I disappear into the crowd of shoppers.

As I transform back to Taylor Hebert, I notice that there are no echoes in the shopping mall.

* * *

Rachel

* * *

Lisa called for a meeting as soon as she got back. We weren't in great shape, but were on the mend and good to go by the start of the next week.

"Okay, I have good news and bad news," Lisa announced.

"Bad news first," I say.

"That new parahuman we ran into? I think she wants to recruit us."

"That's the bad news?" Brian asked. "What's the good news?"

"She's gunning for Coil… our employer."

The room devolves into chaos.

It is only after they have all calmed down that Brian takes control of the situation.

"We're going to need a day or two to figure this out," he began. "Coil and that new parahuman are formidable. We'll need to know as much as we can before we commit to a decision."

I nod, everyone else follows, and life in our hideout returns to what passes for normal.

That's when Lisa shrieks in delight.

"I knew it!" she crowed, and when we went towards her, she unfolds the receipt of her swimsuit to reveal some sort of writing.

"possible temporal or probability related – t", Brian said, reading the note aloud.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm throwing my lot in with her," Lisa said.

* * *

Taylor

* * *

The rest of Thursday went by without a hitch. Dad asked me if I revealed myself as Obelisk during the thwarted kidnapping, but thanks to my cloak of invisibility, no one was able to make me out.

And here I am now on Friday, dozing through classes and dodging the Trio.

Except something takes place that surprises even me.

Halfway through second period, the bell rings before the school PA system bellows out loudly.

"Parahuman battle in progress within the immediate vicinity of Winslow High School. Evacuation procedures will commence. This is not a drill."

I pick up my bag and hide behind a few classmates before changing my appearance again, curious as to who these combatants are.

As we are escorted through the hallways by our teachers, I recall my father telling me not to engage in any parahuman related activities until we can go to the Rig and register properly as a superhero.

The cloak will definitely come in handy right now, I tell myself as I duck in a bathroom, pull on the cloak, and use another one of my new abilities to sense where the parahuman fight was taking place.

And not too far away from Winslow, I could begin to sense the presences in motion, except for one…

 _What in the world is that aberration?_

You felt that one too, huh?

Parahumans have no such… aberrant powers. It also appears this aberration is contained.

I hear the gigantic crash later, and immediately move.

 _Not anymore._

It's loose. Fuck this.

Under the cloak, I summon my armor, and begin leaping to where the aberration is.

* * *

Chapter 1 - **END**

 ** _Author's notes:_**

 **What are Taylor's powers?**

Taylor is essentially an Ultimate Being, as Asteroid Kars somehow hijacked the process that would have gotten Taylor to trigger with Queen Administrator. Now, Taylor has all of Kars' powers, and the Pillar Man's slowly awakening consciousness is seeing her as a daughter who will continue his pursuit of perfection.

She won't be able to use the full extent of her Ultimate Being powers, though – she'll have to work towards them gradually.

Her beginning power set is: changing her appearance, basic Hamon usage, and the use of the basic Light Blade (she can't use the light-based techniques yet, haven't worked on them).


	2. The Guild Mistress

_disclaimer:_ as always, none of this is mine

* * *

 _ **The Endless Pursuit of Perfection**_

 **A Worm / JoJo's Bizarre Adventure crossover**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2: The Guild Mistress**_

* * *

 **Monday morning**

* * *

Thanks to the research my father and I had started when I first discovered my powers, finding out who the movers and shakers in Brockton Bay, cape-wise – and no, that was not a pun – was now proving fruitful.

I took measured steps towards the house marked "Dallon", all the while in what I was learning to call my "Goddess Mode".

 _First impressions are important._

The blonde teen walking along with me also dressed the part: her red-and-black ensemble served to contrast heavily with my gray suit and yellow tie.

I stepped up to the doorway, turned to Marissa, exchanged nods with the cape, and pressed the doorbell.

The living room of the Dallons looked like what your average American suburban would, maybe a bit more like the ones you'd see in HGTV.

While we were made to wait by the lady of the house, I could easily sense Marisa's discomfort, and I put a hand on her shoulder, along with a small bit of that yellow energy.

She gave me a very surprised look that I replied to with a smile, after which she took a moment to think, returning my smile.

"All right," a voice came in, "given Panacea's close shave last Thursday, you can probably understand why we're still a bit high strung over here."

"As it should be," I reply. "If it was up to me, I would have waited for a better occasion, but this is time-critical. Let me be frank, we need Panacea to run an analysis on our colleague's brains here."

"Does this have anything to do with the battle between the Empire 88 and the Travelers last Friday morning, which nearly resulted in an S-Rank alert?" Carol Dallon asked as she walked into the living room, with a smile that could cut glass as she gave me a look.

"That's right," I reply, returning her shark-like look with something much less predatory. "We've been able to do a temporary fix, but Panacea's the one we need to make sure this incident does not repeat again."

"I've told you people then, and I'll tell you now, I don't do brains," a voice came from upstairs, and a mousy brown-haired girl wearing a wrapper over a set of pajamas descended to the living room.

I lock eyes with Amy Dallon, also the heroine Panacea.

"I'm not asking you to fix someone's brains. I'm asking you to read two parahumans' brains. I'd say more, but it's confidential, and I need you on board before I am able to give you more information," I say.

"You never told me your names," Amy replies, her unconvinced look prompting Sundancer to stand up.

"Marissa Newland," she said, extending her hand, and upon shaking hands, Amy's eyes dulled for a moment.

"Katherine Arsenault," I say as I myself stand up and shake Amy's hand, and she gasps.

"Interesting," she whispers, and joins her mother at the other seat in the living room.

"Mom, when did you say I was okay to going back to hospitals?"

"Wednesday. If you're really insistent on doing this, you should probably bring Vicky with you, just to be sure."

Amy's expression changes from vague disinterest to barely-hidden enthusiasm, and Carol turns to me.

"It goes without saying that you will take care of my daughters," she says, with a hint of steel in her voice, and I smile.

"We will, ma'am, do not worry. We will end up owing you a large favor should all this go well," Marissa replies.

"I'll call Arcadia and call Vicky home – I hope this does not take the whole day," Carol says, before standing up. "Good morning, ladies."

Marissa and I shake her hands again before we make our way out of the Dallon household, and as soon as we start down the sidewalk, Marissa lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"That was even scarier than I thought," she admits. "Brandish the superhero is intimidating. Her civilian persona? Terrifying."

"Well," I say with a wry smile, "at least we already know we'll meet Glory Girl and Panacea as soon as we make it back to the Ship's Graveyard. Let's go."

As soon as we find a dark alley, two girls enter, two heroines leave.

* * *

 **Friday Morning**

* * *

It was during the months I spent with my dad honing my powers that I realized that I could leverage my body-modification ability for a lot of purposes.

For example, researching fleas allowed me to jump large distances by replacing my leg joints, researching dragonfly larvae gave me the idea to upgrade my arms with the same mechanics, giving me a fast and wicked flicker jab, and researching chameleons gave me the idea for the cloak.

Now, though, in costume, I was leaping through rooftops and homing in on that aberrant signal, the yellow aura rippling around me like an old friend. I could feel the aberration beginning to move, and several parahumans some distance away.

They could feel me coming even before I got there, and when I did, they viewed me with suspicion.

"I come to assist," I announced. "Why is a monster rampaging this early in the morning?"

One of them, a young man with a top hat, stepped forward. "Someone leaked the details of our meeting. It was an Empire 88 ambush – the fight undid Noelle's restraints..."

I could see that the top half of a young woman was atop the monster.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" I ask.

"She absorbs parahumans who come into contact with her and bring out clones of them," the man with the top hat replied in poorly hidden frustration. "And we've been trying to contain her rampages; that Empire ambush just made her angrier."

I scan the docks; no Nazi capes around.

"And once she went off the range, the Nazis made like bananas and split?" I ask, and the other capes nod along.

"Let me take care of this problem then," I say, "just keep the monster busy while I see what I can do to help your friend."

I leap into the fray, where the abomination spots me instantly, and roars.

* * *

Tentacles sprout from the abomination, trying to latch onto me, but they fail.

Somehow, contact with the yellow aura repels them. I summon my wrist blades and use their flat ends to push the tentacles blocking my view of the objective away.

Twenty meters.

More tentacles sprout. Apparently the abomination is starting to feel fear when it faces an entity it cannot absorb. I shift my mode to combat, cutting out any tentacles that block my vision – as they fall, other tentacles catch them and return it to the main body.

Fifteen meters.

An idea hits me: slice the tentacles, keep the others busy, so my way to my target is clear.

The blades on my arms now take the form of a wall of silver, keeping any attempt at capturing me at bay.

Ten meters.

"Get away from me!" I hear the girl yelling.

I'm going to have to time this perfectly, otherwise I'd waste a perfectly good punch or get absorbed by this thing.

Five meters.

A spurt of power to my blades and the girl has raised her hands to her eyes, leaving her midsection exposed...

Two meters.

I rear my fist back, yellow thunder crackling.

Aura also forms on my feet as I plant them on the abomination's flesh.

I aim for a certain spot the voice in my head is whispering to hit.

I unleash my punch, and it hits straight and true.

The girl gasps as the aura-powered blow impacts her solar plexus, sending the yellow energy rippling throughout her body, and I feel the abomination below me start to destabilize.

She opens her eyes in horror and sees my helmet retract, revealing my face.

"Breathe, Noelle," I say, calming her with an aura-laced hand on her shoulder, "breathe deep."

The abomination begins to fold in on itself as I use my aura to slow my fall, holding onto the girl all the while.

"Eyes on me, Noelle," I say. "Just breathe. Let the power flow through you. Easy."

I feel my feet hit terra firma around the same time Noelle did.

"Keep at it. Just breathe, slowly in, slowly out."

As soon as I told her to breathe, I could see a faint yellow glow around her.

And then she threw her arms around me.

"Thank you," she says between grateful sobs, and I see the rest of the other Travelers make their way towards me.

* * *

 **Francis**

* * *

"How. Just... it's a miracle... how?!" I ask, bewildered, as the reason for our wandering is thoroughly, abruptly and fabulously taken care of by this masked parahuman.

"It's a long story," she replies as she turns to me with the helmet off, nodding. "Suffice it to say my power interacts with that of other parahumans' powers in varied ways. This is only a temporary fix, though, because she needs a strong willpower to maintain the aura I'm using. Keep her spirits high."

"Okay," I say. "We'll do that."

"I'd like to know how she ended up that way, though. If you don't mind."

"Miss," I say, "you have done so much more for us than you can imagine – I will gladly tell you our story."

Several minutes later, once I finish telling the story of the Travelers, the young woman nods her head, almost as if she has solved a puzzle in her mind.

"You came to the right place," she says. "If you guys can keep Noelle in the right mind set until Monday, I will be able to solve your problem. Can you stay at the Boat Graveyard and lay low until then?"

"Of course, of course," I say. "But we never got your name."

She smiles.

"For now? Call me Katherine. Katherine Arsenault."

I reach inside my satchel and procure a mobile phone, and notice her discomfort upon catching it.

"Keep it, so we can contact you when we need you."

She nods, though I notice that her smile looks a bit forced.

"I will see you lot on Monday," she says, and in a flash she's wearing her helmet again, leaping into the distance.

As she leaves, I begin pondering our future... now that we no longer need to wander.

* * *

 **Daniel (Friday evening)**

* * *

I got the panicked phone call from Winslow as soon as I see grainy footage of the fight.

A rampaging monster, and an armored parahuman in gray and yellow armor charging onto the scene and subduing the monster, talking to the group of parahumans before they escape.

I pick up the phone and tell the school registrar that Taylor is probably within the vicinity and would return in a couple of minutes – which she did, showing up in the middle of a group of students when another roll call was held, as she later told me in a return call not too long after that.

The rest of the work day was quite uneventful, but something disturbed me throughout the day.

It turns out my worries were somewhat confirmed, and I was more disturbed than before when she made her admission to me.

"Dad," she began at dinner, "there's something really odd that I just found out today."

"Aside from that fight?"

"Yeah," she replied, picking at her food. "I think I can feel or smell other parahumans. Remember, since that Merchant fiasco? I can shift my ability to sense parahumans between my senses now. "

"That's not all, is it?"

Taylor nodded. "After the fight, I asked the Travelers about their powers, and they said they got their powers from drinking vials of something. Noelle became that way because she split half of the vial with a friend."

"Noelle – you're talking about the monster in the city, right?"

She nodded again.

"It didn't occur to me until I ran into the Travelers, because they smelled different. The first capes I ran into... they didn't smell like the Travelers."

"How'd you come upon this?"

"I found it odd that the Travelers smelled that way. I was skeptical about how the Travelers got their powers… but when I ran into the PRT, that's when it really made sense. Vial capes smell different from normal capes."

"This is game-changing information, Taylor," I ended up saying to her. "You should probably keep this secret as an ace in the hole."

"Agreed."

Dinner was a lot more quiet after that.

* * *

 **Taylor (After "fixing" Noelle)**

* * *

"Second time in a week that I run into you," Armsmaster says as his motorcycle moves up to where I am. Flanking him are a color-coordinated duo of heroes, and Miss Militia carrying – and I swear to God I am not joking – an honest-to-goodness working copy of the Electrodriver from Painkiller (minus the tits and fire).

I had to let out a low whistle when I saw the gun, before turning to the hero in blue armor.

"What can I say?" I ask, my mask shifting to cover half my face and revealing my smile. "I attract trouble like nobody's business. Might as well take the chance to do some fixing, while I'm at it."

"Do you have a description of the combatants?" Miss Militia asks me.

"Color-coordinated group," I answer, turning towards where the Travelers left. "Reds and blacks, one of them had a top hat."

"Send out an APB on the Travelers," I hear Armsmaster whispering, before he turns to me. "What happened here?"

"While I was engaged with the Travelers," I answer, "I managed to figure out that they had just been in a skirmish with the Empire 88. The Travelers unleashed their strongest parahuman member, and the Empire retreated. That's when I came in."

"And you fought all of them off?"

I shake my head. "Only the strongest member. Make a statement like that and they'll all retreat quickly."

After answering a few more questions, the heroes leave, with Armsmaster staying a while to talk to me.

"We're still on for tomorrow, right, sir?" I ask.

"That's right," he answers. "If you arrive early, we can do the preliminary interview, power test, image consult and review with the Director, all within the day. You picked a good time to meet up with us, Obelisk."

"Thank you, Armsmaster," I say, "and I will see you tomorrow."

He waves farewell right before he starts his motorcycle, again leaving me in the docks with only the wind accompanying me.

As I begin to take steps back to Winslow, there is one thing that bothers me.

One of the PRT capes – the one in black and yellow – smelled like the Travelers did. She stood out like a sore thumb among the gathered heroes, and though this was another mystery to unravel, I decided to put it on the back burner while I high-tailed it back to Winslow.

* * *

 **Daniel (Saturday Morning)**

* * *

I don't know how Taylor managed to get me to agree to get a mobile phone for her.

But since she was going to go to the Rig for registration and power testing, it was inevitable.

Now that I've seen her off after breakfast, I take a deep **breath,** and it fills me with hope that everything will be okay.

It's early in the morning on a Saturday – I think the house needs some cleaning and sprucing up.

The news footage I saw where she was fighting off those tentacles – frightening. But it showed me that Taylor does know her stuff. I hope the PRT gets to help her be an even better hero than my... amateur attempts.

As I plan today's house cleaning, I find myself thinking about how Taylor, over the past four months, has grown into a person Annette would be proud of – and that her breathing trick has helped me finish more work in a week than I did in a month.

When she said that "anyone can use the breathing technique", I know her heart is in the right place – she's all about helping others.

I just hope she manages to save a bit for herself every now and then.

* * *

 **Glenn Chambers (Saturday afternoon)**

* * *

The young woman standing before me is wearing an easy smile on her face, the helmet removed and the mask barely hiding her expression.

"Well, if you've already been through the briefing, you should know who I am. Glenn Chambers, head of Image of the PRT."

She shakes the hand I offer firmly.

"Katherine Arsenault, Obelisk, new heroine," she says after I sit down and she follows, "wait, scratch that, new Ward, actually."

"You don't look the part."

She shrugs.

"Part of the perks of being a biological tinker," and she props her elbows on the chair's arms, forms a space with her hands, and rests her head upon it, seemingly catching on my flinch, "whose specialty is self-modification."

She smiles when she sees me breathe a sigh of relief.

"It's a grab bag of abilities, as I'm sure you'll find out when you read through the power testing results," she continues. "What I am curious about is – as head of Image, what do you do, Mr. Chambers?

I cannot start my explanation fast enough.

* * *

 **Taylor**

* * *

"...and that is why that while it IS important to do good as a hero, it is just as important to look good – fabulous, even – so that you impress upon the unpowered that you exist in a different level than they do."

I smile at him.

"You've been practicing this speech."

He sits down, a light patina of sweat covering his forehead, breathing heavily but his expression filled with accomplishment.

"I have. Very few heroes actually come and really listen to what I have to say, let alone allow me to speak about how a hero looks can be used for publicity or even as a weapon to strike fear in the hearts of evil and hope in the hearts of good... I am sorry, Ms. Arsenault, I have begun rambling again."

 _This man gets it._

"I understand completely," I say, before putting on my helmet, standing up and making my way to the mirror.

Mr. Chambers gasps as soon as he sees me stand in the mirror, take a step, and put my arms over my head.

"Is this what you had in mind?"

When I turn back at him, he is actually crying – shedding tears of joy as he sees me do what he calls "poses of justice".

"You have it, Miss Obelisk," he says, walking up to me and clasping my hands in his. "The poses. It is innate within you."

Okay, this is quite simply bizarre.

 _How apropos._

"Thank you, I guess?" I ask.

"I will arrange a few more meetings to iron out the details… but Ms. Arsenault – Obelisk? Out of all the heroes here, you are a diamond in the rough. I will see you soon."

He pressed a button on his intercom calling for the PRT Director to wait for my arrival, and motioned to a security person to escort me upstairs.

Maybe now I can get to talk to someone about the other thing that's been bothering me ever since the moment I stepped onto the Rig.

* * *

 **PRT facility, a few hours earlier**

* * *

"Your power set is?"

"Limited biological Tinker," I reply, taking a moment to look at the odd reactions from the appraisers before continuing on, "it means I can only biologically modify myself. The suit of armor and weapon I generate are based on that power."

 _Prudent._

I'll keep my breathing-related powers as my ace in the hole for now.

 _Very prudent._

With that, I summon my gray armor and arm blades.

"The armor is lightweight and disperses punctures, sharp and blunt impacts very well," the technician says. "We'll give you a Changer rating along with a minor Brute rating for now.

The rest of the power testing goes without a hitch.

However, as I wrap up before going to the Head of Image's office, there is something that startles me.

I will probably talk it over with another hero when I get the chance to... preferably Armsmaster.

 _He is a no-nonsense person to a fault._

Agreed.

* * *

 **Emily Piggot**

* * *

Our newest ward-to-be – codenamed Obelisk – has just entered my office, looking more like an unsure teenager than the confident young woman that walked into the Rig.

Her first set of questions end up knocking me more off balance than anything any Protectorate or Wards applicant has ever said during their final interview.

"Is this office under surveillance?"

I narrow my eyes at her.

"Why would you begin your interview by asking a question like that?" I ask.

She gestures rapidly with her hands while palming me a note.

The note read "your organization is compromised, allow me to use my power to have complete privacy".

It's nothing I don't already know, given all the villains escaping from our transports – it's just gotten worse as of late.

Still, who am I to turn down free information freely offered?

I nod.

 _Okay, can you hear me now?_

I nod again.

 _Great. I'm using my power to vibrate my words directly in your eardrum. Right now, no one can hear me but you._

I gesture towards my mouth and she smiles.

 _When I knew I had this ability, I took up ventriloquism while preparing for my heroic debut. Awesome huh?_

She seems so happy when talking about her abilities; she's displaying her true personality underneath her heroic guise. I suppose I should humor her.

I nod again.

 _Anyway, we're wasting time. Another of my abilities is that I can smell parahumans._

My eyes widen.

 _That's the reason for all this cloak and dagger stuff._

I trace my finger in a circle.

 _Uh... I haven't actually tested out my upper limits for it yet. I can pinpoint everyone in the Rig accurately, if that's what you're trying to say._

I narrow my eyes at her.

 _Prove it? Okay. There are nine capes on the Protectorate level. Eight capes on the Wards level. One on what I assume to be an administrative floor, since it's just the floor below this one._

 _One of the capes on the Protectorate floor has been alerted that you have gone into radio silence during the interview and will contact you in 3, 2, 1..._

The intercom rang.

"Director Piggot," the voice of Miss Militia came through clearly. "Is everything all right there with Obelisk?"

"Everything's fine," I reply, doing my best to hide the amazement in my voice. "Carry on."

 _Smart money says the cape on the admin floor seems to be the person actively sabotaging the Protectorate. Also, I've done some homework on you – the PRT doesn't have capes in administrative positions as a conflict of interest, right?_

I nod slowly.

 _Admin cape's gone to a stop in the office immediately below you._

She sees my response, and gives me the smile of the victorious.

* * *

 **Taylor (After the Wards interview)**

* * *

The moment I see Thomas Calvert being led away in containment foam, I remember that I apparently did not mention that I didn't just smell capes, I could also smell if they got their powers from a vial.

The opening conference allowed me to pick out several heroes who also smelled like the Travelers – and Calvert, now that I remember.

The one with the lion motif: Triumph, and the other one with the black and yellow costume: Battery.

I was also introduced to the Wards, and when someone familiar went up to shake my hand, I made sure to give Shadow Stalker's hand an extra-firm squeeze – the kind that leaves some bruises behind.

What really intrigued me was that the Ward named Browbeat just came in, and I could feel the faint crackle of power coming from him, similar to my own.

I just smiled at him before continuing the introductions, being sure to send a slight jolt of my own energy at him when we shook hands, smiling when his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

The sun was on its way below the horizon, framing the sky in orange by the time the PRT had finished taking Calvert away. It was then that the Director saw it fit to finish her interview with me, calling me back up to her office.

"Let me be frank, Obelisk," she began. "I think you're going to be a thorn in my side for a long time to come."

"I don't even think you'd get along with the Wards, with your attitude towards being a hero and some of your off-the-book escapades."

 _Interesting. I will have to check to see how much they know about me._

"But you've done the PRT a really big favor, so the best arrangement for all of us moving forward, is that you maintain your independence, but at the same time can be called upon by the PRT for... various reasons."

"Like a mercenary."

"Close. As I said, you're sometimes too perceptive for your own damn good. You'd end up kicking hornets' nests willy-nilly."

I keep my face serious due to her candor. She really does think I'm all that, and it's that reason why she'd rather have me outsourced than directly working under her.

All things considered, it was a very prudent decision for her to make – and it was also what I wanted out of this, now that I've tied the smell of Calvert to the mercenaries who tried to kidnap Dinah.

As I'm walking back home from the Rig, it's not my new circumstances as a freelance hero that bothers me: it's the fact that the Ward Browbeat also has the same breathing-related abilities as I do.

 _His blood smells familiar._

Yeah, I think we should look into it should we have the time. But tomorrow, we have an appointment with the ABB liaison at the concert. I don't know about you, whoever you are, but I find myself excited to see what's there.

* * *

 **Calvert**

* * *

How was I found out?

HOW?!

The thoughts are consuming my mind as I am transported to a more secure facility.

I've already called on my operatives to break me out as soon as they can. They should be able to ambush the transport, neutralize my guards, and break me out...

I try to split the timeline, but I find myself in unbelievable pain as a jolt of what seems to be electricity going through me.

It is only after the pain subsides when I see that we have come to a stop.

And it is here that my worst nightmare comes true.

I am alone in this PRT prison vehicle, trapped in containment foam, and now the driver has just jumped out of the vehicle and is opening the door.

As soon as he closes the door behind him, he begins to metamorphose into an unfamiliar teenage girl.

"If you believe in anything close to God, start praying," she says in a deadly whisper.

"Please," I say. "This is a mistake. I am no supervillain, I am just a PRT employee—"

"Cut the crap, Coil," she retorts, shutting me down, her fingertip wreathed in that wretched electricity that she uses to silence me. "You know who this is about."

"I have money, connections, personnel!"

"Which you won't be able to use... since you're a couple seconds away from getting a nasty case of 'dead'," she says with a smirk. "Before this ends, know that it was Dinah Alcott who caused your downfall, Coil."

She puts her hand on my head and I –

* * *

 **Daniel**

* * *

"How did the PRT meeting go?"

Taylor smiles at me.

"Even better than I thought, Dad. Want me to tell you over dinner?"

As I head over to the stove, I find myself filled with a joy that Taylor is finally smiling again.

* * *

 **Taylor (Sunday morning)**

* * *

The Brockton Bay Stadium was one of the smaller stadiums on the Eastern seaboard.

It was only within the last couple of years that the city had gained an influx of capital due to the parahuman presence that efforts were made to restore it to its former glory, efforts that were successful.

While it wasn't as attractive to larger celebrities, parahuman-focused entertainers such as Concert often performed here to record crowds.

And given Brockton Bay's love of sport from the influx of people from the Midwest, the Stadium was also home to the Arcadia and Immaculata varsity squad teams. Though the Brockton Bowl was not as prestigious as its other college counterparts, it still attracted people who filled in the holes in their hearts at the slow death of this city with sheer school spirit.

Honestly, it couldn't be helped.

And now, I'm walking into the concert hall, where the 433 Pro – a parahuman-themed idol group made up of survivors from Leviathan's Kyushu rampage - are set to make their debut concert here.

433 Pro was a multimedia collaboration with NKT-Galactic and Flying Carp Enterprises: there were records, meet-and-greets, an animated production with 13 episodes, and even a mobile game.

How did I know this?

Winslow had a small but very devoted group of fans, mostly ABB, who worshipped 433 like goddesses.

I found their dedication disturbing, but given that 433 Pro was an idol group, I thought it went together quite well. Besides, those guys were (mostly) harmless, their involvement with the ABB relegated to making art and being the public face of the gang.

All this was going through my head as I waited in line as the same old Taylor Hebert to claim my ticket and voucher.

As soon as I got to the booth, my vouchers were marked, and I ended up with my arms full of idol-related material: bags, ID lace, button pins, key chains, glow sticks, caps, and even a shirt that was at least one size too large for me.

I looked around in consternation until I heard a voice from behind me.

"Put the shirt on," and I whirled around to see a giant of a man…

…and what the HELL was he wearing?

The man I was gawking at wore what looked like medieval Japanese samurai armor… made with pastel-colored foam, festooned with 433 Pro pins, key chains and assorted memorabilia. He even had a banner with the idol group's front woman – what was her name again, Rieri or something – behind his back. And completing the look were two light sticks where the katana would be.

It would have been an amazing sight if it wasn't so awkward.

"They'll raise the air conditioning before the start of the Live, so you can put the shirt on over your outfit," the man said in a rumbling voice.

He sounds familiar.

I quickly put on the shirt, the cap, and slide my bag into the 433 Pro one, setting up the light sticks afterward; when I turn to the armored man, he has his arms akimbo and nodding.

He smells familiar.

"Good," he says. "Let us go. What is your name?"

"Thanks for the help," I reply, "my name is Taylor."

"I am Kenta, and I need you to deliver a message to the woman hero I battled nearly a week ago."

It takes all of my composure not to laugh out loud at Lung, and we walk into the concert hall via the VIP entrance (where else)?

* * *

The array of fans in this hall is amazing.

A lot of them were refugees from Kyushu who have taken root here and have since settled in.

I can even see some wearing the ABB colors and inks on their arms, their outfits color-coordinated and sometimes even carrying three light sticks per hand.

We keep walking down the pathway until we find ourselves in the very front row.

"Have a seat, Taylor," Lung says, gesturing me towards the seat numbered in my ticket.

"How…?" I ask.

"I am Dragon," he said in a low voice. "ABB fear me. It is here that I am not Dragon, but just Kenta. It is also why I made 433 Pro. Leviathan killed idols back home. I bring it back to defy him."

The lights went out and the audience let out a cheer.

"I will tell you more. But first, we dance!"

The lights went up on stage, and seven beautiful Japanese girls began singing the song their characters voiced in the 433 Pro animation, and for several hours I am spellbound by the idols' love of the fans, the fans' devotion towards their idols, the beauty of their songs, the flash of their dresses…

…and I take side glances at the Dragon of Kyushu, disguised in plain sight as a random fan, turning to the audience to lead them in what the Winslow 433 fans called wotagei.

* * *

 **Several hours later**

* * *

As soon as the performance ended, I see Kenta let the other fans leave first before he walks along the path back outside the concert hall.

One of the conference rooms is open, and he motions me to enter.

And as soon as I sit down, he finds a more comfortable chair and slouches.

Here I have no doubt that it is the Dragon of Kyushu I am facing, because Oni Lee himself appears in a snap of the armored man's fingers.

In my awe I fail to get what Lung whispers to his subordinate, but Oni Lee sees me, nods his head, and leaves the conference room, closing it as he goes.

"You speak for the woman in armor, yes?" Lung asks.

I nod, like the scared teenager I really am.

"Good, because I require her help. I have some... problems that require outside intervention to take care of. There will be a meet-and-greet the next day. Have her go there for the details."

He passes me a pair of tickets to the 433 Pro meet-and-greet.

"Thank you," I say, trying to copy how Oni Lee bows to his boss, but failing miserably.

"You are welcome. And I hope the show entertained you. Now, please get my message to your friend as soon as you can."

I emerge from the Brockton Bay Stadium with my heart beating in my throat, and only two words on my mind.

Holy shit.

* * *

Chapter 2 - **End**

 **Author's note:** Hamon here is different from the canon in a significant way – while anyone can use the Ripple for improving their daily live, actual combat use of the Ripple is restricted to a few practitioners, mostly hereditary lines. It's one of Kars!Taylor's secondary powers, given Kars' immediate flood of information about Hamon when he ascended, Taylor will also work out the details of the Ripple the more the story goes along. Right now she just thinks it's a power up that affects capes more than unpowered people.


	3. The Dragon and the Healer

**disclaimer:** AYYYYAYYYYAYYYYEEEEE (wubstep for "This is not mine")

foreword: I'll try to keep the perspective changes at a minimum, or increase the amount of content between them. The timeline will also untangle after a certain event, from which all future chapters will be chronologically consistent.

and you guys never saw the reference in Taylor's goddess pseudonym what

anyway here's Wonderwall aka the next chapter

* * *

 _ **The Endless Pursuit of Perfection**_

 **Chapter 3 – The Dragon and the Healer**

* * *

Marissa told me that the appointment with New Wave would be set for after lunch, enough time for me to attend the meet-and-greet in my Arsenault guise. As we were talking about mundane matters, she let slip that there were some disagreements with the Travelers after my shenanigans.

Noelle in particular wanted me to find one of their members, who was caught by the Yangban.

"That's nice," I say as soon as she finishes her story. "What I want you to tell Noelle is that she should worry about herself, first. Breathing is just a stopgap until I can figure out how to fix her. Their missing teammate is something of a secondary concern – making her power controllable is our priority for now. But I give you my word, Marissa: I will do what I can to help once this is done."

"You've done so much for us…"

I smile at Marissa as we cross the street.

"I know. Which is why that the price you need to pay is in proportion with the boon I have given you."

She looks distraught.

"If you're thinking 'risk', then don't. I DO know how to take care of my friends."

* * *

I'm still Katherine when I head over to the Leaping Carp office complex, where the meet-and-greet was being held. Though the line wasn't that long, I walk up to the VIP entrance, breathe in and make my other power burst out in a few yellow sparks, and the security personnel freak out and quickly usher me in.

Thank God for small blessings.

Instead of the meet-and-greet, I am ushered to a side office, where seated at a table, poring over documents with his secretary, is the leader of the ABB, in an impeccably tailored suit.

As soon as the door clicks and I use my superhuman senses to determine that only Lung and I are in the office, he turns his head up from his work at me, revealing a face with numerous old scars.

"You're that heroine?" he asked in a surprisingly even tone, completely unlike his persona as a villain. As proof, I breathe, and the armor assembles in front of him.

To his credit, he nods and motions to one of the chairs on the table opposite him. I return to being Katherine Arsenault and sit down.

"The concert was very... enlightening," I begin.

 _I have gained much knowledge of what you and Mr. Chambers call posing, thanks to that concert._

"Thank you," Kenta replies. "Setting it up was a logistics nightmare. I'm amazed it even became that successful. Someday, and I hope it happens sooner rather than later, the ABB dies, and only the Leaping Carp Corporation remains."

He is surprisingly candid with me. I suppose I should ask him why later.

"You are going to legitimize the ABB?"

"Why not? The Japanese community is scattered, orphaned, broken. I want to rebuild and bring back the Japanese people to their former glory, parahuman powers or not."

"The gang…"

"…is an archaic, excessively violent, and vestigial part of our broken society that I am aiming to burn down from within."

His eyes are smoldering as he speaks.

"Why?"

He smiles.

"Because when people see me out on the street with no shirt and a mask, they see Lung, the criminal leader of the ABB. To idol fans at conventions and concerts, they see Kenta the Armored Idol Fanatic. To a handful of people I trust, they see Takahashi Kenta, the CEO of Leaping Carp. To people I deem as equals, they see all three."

The fight you had with him.

He felt you try to defuse the situation, talk things over, and fight for the simple joy of it.

If that's the case, then...

"The Ruby hit was from someone who wanted to stop you from your path to legitimacy," I gasp, and Lung smiles. "Those assets weren't the ABB's, they were the liquid assets of Leaping Carp!"

"Very perceptive," he says. "I knew it was a good idea to put a few chips on you."

"Thank you, Mr. Takahashi," I say.

"And polite, too. But we are not here to talk about the assets I lost in the Ruby heist – you have the means to recover them in your own time. I am here because I need an outsider's help."

"Go on."

"The ABB has recently recruited a bright young parahuman going by the codename Bakuda. She was recruited primarily because of her intelligence, not because of her parahuman ability, which was also very handy. Unfortunately, the ABB made a bad miscalculation."

He opens a drawer and withdraws a file folder, opening it.

"Alice Imai – the person we had hoped to be one of the brilliant minds helping the ABB transition into legitimacy – had apparently been consumed by the explosive parahuman Bakuda completely. I had her investigated, and... after our battle, I discreetly discovered her plans of unseating me as the head of the ABB."

He hands me a file folder.

"I want you to eliminate her in a way that does not come back to me."

* * *

I'm looking at the parahuman named Lung, who is also the CEO of Leaping Carp, dead in his eye, right after he asks me for a gargantuan favor.

The intensity of his gaze is unnerving, even as I return it with my own, as I am still Katherine Arsenault the parahuman, not Taylor Hebert the oft-bullied teenager.

I stumble over the words that I truly want to ask, and end up uttering only one thing.

"Why?"

Understanding flashes in his eyes. It's not every day you get to throw someone off balance this thoroughly.

"It was shortly after the ABB was founded," he began. "I got into a fight with the Protectorate here. Though people say the Protectorate were lucky to escape alive, the truth was vastly different: I saw myself, as if I was a beetle fighting off several ants."

"Perspective," I whisper, and Kenta gives me a smile.

"After I regained my freedom, I asked myself the question, 'do I own my powers, or do my powers own me?', and the answers were... sobering. It was then that I realized I had a chance, a real chance, to defy my enemies and become a true dragon, instead of a semblance of one."

My eyes light up.

"This is why you asked for my help," I answer, "and it's also why you call your company Leaping Carp."

"Exactly," he says. "The ABB as a gang is in its death throes, and needs someone to put them out of their misery. And from its ashes will rise something better."

"The whorehouses?"

"Are almost empty," Kenta replies. "Before, I was simply content with tolerating it. Not anymore. A society cannot thrive on its red lanterns alone."

Holy crap. This guy really wants to bring back Japan to its pre-Leviathan glory.

"And eliminating this Bakuda would help?"

"I can see no other solution," Kenta said, resignedly. "As it is, she is a threat, not just to this business, but to Brockton Bay as a whole. If you know of a better solution, I would like to see it."

* * *

It's about half an hour past twelve when I reach the Travelers' hideout, the two members of New Wave following me as I make myself a beacon for them to follow.

When I do, Marissa welcomes me, Glory Girl and Panacea. We walk in to find the other red and black-clad supervillains gathered on a table and making plans.

"Obelisk is as good as her word," Marissa announces. "GG and Panacea are here."

"Okay, what do we need to do?" Panacea asks.

"I need you to read the brains of Oliver, here – and Noelle," I say. "I need to copy the information in Oliver's Corona to Noelle's."

"I'm telling you, I don't do—"

"I know," I answer. "I just need you to spot for me while I do the heavy lifting."

I clench my fist, and yellow lightning crackles from it.

"I also need to punch you and your sister in the solar plexus," I add.

Everybody gapes at my declaration, until I clarify. "You'll need a bit of my power so Noelle's ability won't affect you. I also gave her the same, so that she can consciously use her power."

* * *

The sun was already beginning to disappear below the horizon when my adjustments to Noelle's corona was completed, thanks to Panacea's help. It was necessary for me to hold Panacea to secrecy about the "vials with powers" thing, but they took it in stride as they made their way back home.

Before they left, the healer took the time to thank me, because due to my demonstrating the breathing power on Glory Girl, her aura was a lot easier to control now.

"Imagine breathing in a thick, soupy mist for a long time, and finding out that you can finally breathe fresh air again," she had told me. "I'll never forget what you've done for me."

"Just make sure nobody knows about the Travelers' origins," I say. "I do have a question for you: do your powers... pressure you?"

Glory Girl and the Travelers were out of earshot, and Panacea nodded guiltily.

"The power you've given me helps," she says. "Another thing which I cannot possibly pay you back for."

I smile at her.

"If you can't pay it back, pay it forward."

She returns the smile, goes to Glory Girl, and they both leave.

I turn to the Travelers and ask Noelle a question. "What will you do now?"

"We'll probably register as independents," she answers, "and make Brockton Bay our base of operations. We've done enough damage trying to keep me from going out of control, and, well, I guess this is a start to how we can pay it back."

Given what I know about the ABB, they'll probably have a bit of the city to work with after I take care of Lung's little problem. And with what I've seen about how powers work...

...maybe instead of killing Bakuda, I could adjust her corona so it doesn't drive her insane anymore? The file Lung gave me had a comprehensive dossier on the ABB cape's mental issues, issues that were exacerbated by her trigger event.

"Your… breathing power," Noelle continued, "it's not only helped me fine-tune my power, it's also helped me think better..."

She trails off, and I feel that she wants to ask more from me, but is a bit hesitant to.

"If all of you really want to pay me back, Noelle," I answer, "try to stay on the right side of the law this time. I was also planning on helping the rest of your team by unlocking your breathing powers, too."

Noelle's eyes began shining with hope.

"That means you can help Cody, too!"

The rest of the Travelers heard, and were instantly a bit on edge, to which I replied, "I should do this now, and then you guys can talk about it, when you're thinking a bit better."

* * *

As soon as I get home, Dad asks me where I spent my day.

"Hero stuff," I answer, and he just smiles at me.

"Well, I was just finished with dinner, and maybe we can talk about it there?"

I smile and nod, and at dinner, I tell him about what happened today.

"You've got a lot of things to accomplish, Taylor," he tells me. "Do you think you can do them all in time?"

"I don't think I can," I answer. "I know I can."

"That's the spirit. We can work on the details after school tomorrow."

* * *

That night, a certain scene replayed itself in my dreams.

I was walking away from the PRT van when the burner I was given began to ring.

"Is it taken care of?" a gruff female voice asked me.

"It's done," I reply. "Your little snake problem has been dealt with."

"Good," she says. "If I need more outside context help, I will contact you again."

The line went dead.

* * *

Unfortunately, I could not make it at home in time for dinner the next day, because the moment I stepped onto Winslow, I saw three crossbow bolts sticking out of my chest, looked up, and saw what I thought was the entire student body of Winslow looking at me and wondering why I haven't dropped dead yet.

Well, fuck.

* * *

During key moments, I notice that time seems to slow down around me.

The person who has shot me has already vanished; selling my injury to avoid a cape-related panic is my current priority.

I crumple to my knees and roll towards my back, where a pool of blood is beginning to form.

 ** _Now is probably a bad time to say that your blood is also a vector of your powers. Given that it is your biology..._**

The voice in my head gives me a warning as the students panic and the teachers call for an ambulance.

 _Is it possible for me to render my blood inert?_

 ** _Normally I would say that it is counterproductive for one such as yourself to do so, but yes, it is possible. Focus on straining your power out of the blood you have spilled._**

 _Will do. And thank you._

 ** _We are not out of the woods yet. There is still the matter of the hospital to consider. Also, your physiology has begun to work around the bolt, drastically lowering the rate of your bleeding._**

 _Should I ask them to call Panacea?_

 ** _It would cut down on the scrutiny a great deal, yes._**

My decision made, I continue to lay on the floor of Winslow, a macabre sight, while I wait for help to arrive.

* * *

The emergency doctors buy the haphazard modifications I've made as some sort of stroke of luck, keeping me from bleeding out, and Panacea drops in around lunchtime.

"Do I have your permission to heal you?"

"Yes," I whisper, "and don't freak out."

The moment she does touch me, I send a pulse of yellow energy to calm her.

"You're that parahuman!" she whispers.

"Yeah," I answer, "and someone just put three crossbow bolts in me."

"Unwritten rules violation?"

I shake my head.

"They don't know I'm a parahuman, so it doesn't count. I'm going to have to sneak out of here, there are lots of things I need to do."

"How are you going to do that?"

I grin evilly.

"Watch me."

Several minutes later, Taylor Hebert falls into a coma, while Amy Dallon and her new friend Katherine Arsenault walk out of the hospital with no one the wiser.

* * *

"Dad," I say over the phone.

"Taylor!" he shouts. "I heard what happened at Winslow."

"Yeah," I reply. "Someone took a shot at me with a crossbow. Had to make it look bad so I could leave the hospital."

"Are you okay?"

"I am," I say. "I've got lots of hero stuff to do. Going to be spending the night with Noelle and the others after these errands."

"Okay. Stay safe. Love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

I turn off the phone and look up to Noelle.

"Um, sorry my power is a bit of a copy of yours? I just made it so my copy is comatose and sleeping while I stay here for the time being."

She smiles at me.

"No problem at all, Katherine," she replies. "I know you have things to do later. Listen, uh, all of us decided that we're going to ask you for help in rescuing Cody."

"From the Yangban?"

Noelle nodded.

"We were working under someone, and his price was that we sell off our weakest link."

She looks repentant; like it was one of the dumbest decisions the group had ever made. I take a moment to think about how this task would unfold, and how it would shape the network of connections I had with the Travelers, as well as Cody, when I rescue him.

"He might hold it against you."

"Not as long as you say that it was I who made this rescue possible. I'd like to say that it's no rush, but every day passing makes him more vulnerable to the Yangban's propaganda. I don't know what shape he'll be in when you do manage to rescue him. So please, if you have other things to do, do them quickly."

"All right. But I'm going to need your help as a group. There's a new ABB cape named Bakuda. I want you to track her down for me, and when I deal with her, I'm going to go and rescue Cody from the Yangban."

"Deal."

She extends a hand, and I shake it.

"Guys!"

Noelle leaves the room and goes to her teammates.

"Costume up, we have work to do."

* * *

In the deep of the night, Noelle is at their hideout and coordinating the task I have given them.

A few hours and some detailed reconnaissance later, Marissa breaks the silence.

"Sundancer here, I have visual on ABB workshop. Obelisk, do you have a positive read?"

"Positive," I say, my Obelisk armor taking on the red and black tint of the Travelers. "Start the diversion."

In a few minutes, outside the hideout, Genesis – in the form of the Gaping Dragon – comes running over the horizon, forcing the ABB guards outside to start shooting.

Ballistic is shooting pebbles containing bits of my power into the abandoned facility, allowing me to sense who and what's inside.

The only parahuman within is Bakuda.

Excellent.

I put on my cloaking field and make my way in as the battle rages outside.

Following the beacons planted by Ballistic makes finding Bakuda's workshop a piece of cake.

And in a few moments, I succeed – behind a blast door, a woman with a gas mask is putting on some body armor with one hand, a grenade launcher in the other.

Before she can react, I am immediately in her face, and pulling off the gas mask with one hand and placing my other hand on her head in one smooth motion.

 ** _Holy shit._**

 _Holy shit is right. Her Corona is burrowing its way into her cerebral cortex. Five per cent and rising exponentially._

 ** _Hit her now!_**

 ** _You don't have to tell me twice!_**

I swing my armored hand towards her solar plexus, crackling with yellow energy, and the moment it hits, I can see the brain begin to fight back against the Corona, forcing its tendrils back until it returns to a passive state.

She lets out a gasp and falls to her knees as I drop her.

"Oh no, my scholarship!" she gasps, and I can't help it – I laugh. "You're a parahuman, right? Can you get me back to Cornell University? I still have two majors and a thesis defense to take care of – wait, where am I?"

"Brockton Bay," I answer, "and welcome back to the land of the living, Alice."

The only answer she gives me is a very confused stare.

 ** _This is a very bad precedent. Powers like that not only rewrite personalities, but also memories?_**

 _Looks like we're going to have to give Producer-san the news: we took out Bakuda, but Alice has no memory of anything that happened after her trigger event._

 ** _Like I said. Her powers completely overwrote her._**

 _Should we look into what Alice's personality was like before she triggered?_

 ** _The next best thing to do now is to hand her over to Kenta. Not Lung. We can't risk her going off again._**

 _Agreed._

"Do you know who Takahashi Kenta is?" I ask her.

"Yeah, he's that idol producer, he's also in charge of the Japanese community here in Brockton Bay. Why do... you... ask?" Alice then took a look at herself and gasped. "Why am I wearing this?"

"I'll give you all the answers you need if you come with me," I say. "For now, put on that mask and tell the mooks outside to stand down."

"Okay."

After Alice bid the ABB members to stand down and look after her workshop after the Travelers retreated, she turned to me.

"I have a ton of questions saved up for you when we get to Mr. Takahashi's office... uh..."

"Obelisk," I answer.

"Okay, Obelisk. Before we go to Mr. Takahashi, just one question: how is it that you know our family's secret technique?"

* * *

I decided to go with Alice as she made the drive to the Leaping Carp office, answering her questions as we made our way through traffic. By then, I had already given the Travelers the signal to retreat; we would begin making plans for springing Cody loose from the Yangban as soon as we could.

"…to answer your question, I just do?" I tell Alice as we wait at a red light. "It just came to me when I got my powers. Even now, I don't know most of how our powers worked."

"Same here," Alice answered. "My folks said I wasn't built to use the Ripple. Said it was a bad mix of genes. Ivy – my mom – wasn't born with much aptitude for the Ripple, too, unlike Aunt Holly."

The light turned green, and we went forward.

"But Mom and Dad taught me in case I knew how. Didn't pan out, as you can see."

"Interesting," I remark, "so it's called the Ripple here."

"Yep," Alice said. "Never thought it would actually work or I could actually use it until you came along. What's your name?"

"Katherine. Katherine Arsenault."

"Alice Imai," she replies. "Granpappy would have been over the moon to see someone else use the Ripple. Too bad our family got gutted in Kyushu. Dad, Mom, Aunt Holly, my cousin... I don't even know how I got through college without the help of the Speedwagon Foundation."

Several turns, and we found ourselves in the Leaping Carp office building.

"I'll talk to the CEO," I say as soon as we emerge from the vehicle. "Don't say or do anything, you're treading on thin ice right now."

"Because of why my memories of the past few weeks are missing?"

"Got it in one."

We enter the office building together, causing a minor ruckus, but the security guys find no contraband on the both of us.

* * *

It was after the debriefing and Alice drove away that Mr. Takahashi entered the conference room where I was made to wait. His expression was inscrutable when he entered, and he shook his head when he got comfortable in the chair.

"You're a really sharp one, Ms. Arsenault. I had fully expected you to decisively deal with Bakuda, but instead you take the more dangerous solution, and the Carp ends up with a talented young lady under its wing."

"Will she still be making area-of-effect devices?" I ask.

The CEO smiles at my directness. "Only when we're certain that she can do them without the corona-related Bakuda personality re-emerging. For now, she's going into our research division, and maybe a good word on resuming her schooling."

"That will be difficult," I say.

"Not if you vouch for her," Lung replies. "And the work you've done to... restore her to being a productive member of society. For that matter, I think what happened to Alice is a more virulent version of what happened to me."

"Come again?"

"Ever since gaining perspective, I work hard daily to prevent my powers from using me. Every now and then, I have to unleash my power, lest I become overrun. Overcoming challenges tames the dragon within, but only briefly. I can only suppose Bakuda came to being because Alice was taken over."

I nod. "And now that she has a means to keep Bakuda at bay, you're going to give Alice a chance?"

"I did not recruit her for her powers, remember?" He stood up and, before leaving, turned to me. "Be that as it is, I find that I and Leaping Carp owe you a significant debt of gratitude. Please give my well wishes to Taylor."

With that, Kenta steps out and closes the door behind him.

The other managers of Leaping Carp soon enter, and after thanking me, hand over a check with a modest sum… "least CEO Takahashi could do," said one of the managers. I bow and thank them, and make my way back to where the Travelers were currently hiding.

* * *

"So we could get abducted?"

"Too risky."

"Well, we're not going to be able to find Cody unless we get inside the Yangban's parahuman compound. I have a cute songbird who told me that they haven't gotten the 'separate facilities for separate specialties' project finished; but we're on the clock. The thing will be done in two months, and if that happens, Cody's out of our reach," I explained. "But… I think I may have a way to work around this."

"How?" Francis asked me.

I pull out a hair, which I transform into what looked like a wriggling nerve cell.

"This," I say after the Travelers have had their requisite freak-out, "and Noelle's power. Clone me."

After Noelle grabs a hold of me and generates a virtual copy of me I pick out the nerve cell and place it on my clone's forehead, where it burrows into the brain and into the space where the corona pollentia occupied.

"I... I can't sense the clone anymore," Noelle said.

"That's because I'm controlling the clone now," I replied. "Emulated the effect of a runaway corona controlling its user, and I now have a parahuman body double we can use to bait the Yangban into abducting."

"Isn't it difficult to be in two places at once?" Marissa asked.

"I've practiced," I reply with a smile. "Don't worry. My double has all the powers I do. We'll be bringing Cody home before you know it."

The Travelers gave me a skeptical nod as my body double continued to stand still, my parasite corona still working to accustom itself to the new body.

* * *

Over the next few days, the Travelers and I went through the details of how to rescue Cody: thanks to my presence smoothing things over, they were able to air out their grievances with Francis and Noelle, and I was able to mediate the argument before parahuman powers were used.

There was still one problem we had to hurdle: how we would get Acacia D'Castro (our name for the body double) abducted by the Yangban.

All of that was rendered useless in a New York minute when I got a phone call from Alice.

"Kath?" she asked as soon as I picked up. "Hello?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Uh, I think I have a problem I need your help with..."

"What kind of problem?"

"There's a ghost that's been trailing me for the past couple hours. Can you take a look at it?"

Okay. This was weird.

"Sure, I'll be there in a jiffy," I answer. "Any details about the ghost I need to know?"

"Well," Alice replied, her voice beginning to quaver, "it's kind of like a girl with a halo on her back. I'm close to freaking out, please get here soon!"

"All right, hang in there, Alice!"

I rush to the door and intercepting me was Francis.

"Hero stuff?" he asks with a smile.

"Yeah," I reply. "Don't start the party without me."

And as soon as I leave our hideout, I duck in an alley and emerge as Obelisk before taking to the rooftops towards Alice's apartment. The way she said it sounded like it was serious.

Better hurry.

* * *

I arrive at Alice's apartment posthaste, and seeing that it's locked, I whip out my mobile phone and call her.

"Alice? It's me, Katherine."

She opens the door and what I see surprises even me.

Hovering behind Alice is a figure looks like some sort of gynoid with a Buddha motif – no, wait, that's actually a pentagram in a circle behind it. Looks like it's wearing a cross of an Eastern and Western holy robe, and its color scheme is, well, odd. Gold, but a bit paler than the usual tint, too.

"You see her too?" Alice asks me, nervous.

"Yeah," I reply. "What is that?"

"I contacted the Speedwagon Foundation before you got here," Alice explains. "According to them, she's a projection of my spirit. They'll send someone to help me work with..."

Alice flashes her own Ripple, takes a deep breath, and snaps her finger – and the ghostly figure closes the door.

"...Yeah, I think Pentacle Page is a good name for her."

Her living room is a mishmash of various things.

"Page brought me all this stuff. Thought it was a poltergeist at first, but when I started working on strengthening my Ripple, I started seeing bits and pieces of her. The Foundation helped me in bringing her under control, and the person they'll send will help me use it better, find out my specialty. But given my parahuman powers, it will most likely be related to explosions."

I see Page snap its finger and a small explosion occurs.

"Indeed," I say. "So… these things."

"Most of these are things I used to Tinker with when I was still Bakuda. Can you help me store them and put them away? Page can do most of my parahuman tricks, I have the Ripple as a secondary power, and using my parahuman powers myself as a measure of last resort."

"Sure thing, Alice. Let's do this."

* * *

Several hours and a lot of tidying up later, I leave a smiling Alice in her apartment, and Page waving at me as well.

Yeah, that projection of hers is creepy.

 ** _Nothing I haven't seen before._**

You would have seen that too, wouldn't you?

Anyway, I told the Travelers I'd be doing hero stuff (mostly finding someone to set up kidnapping my body double), so I'd still have some time away from their hideout to waste.

Which was where I found Lisa in one of the more expensive clothing stores on the Boardwalk.

"HEY THERE GIRLFRIEND!" I call out to her, and she just lets out a sigh in long-suffering frustration as I walk over and drape an arm over her shoulders. "Got your shopping done today?"

"Bunch of stuff, yeah."

"Great. You're the best mind I've had the good fortune to get to know, so I kind of need to pick your brain."

With the look of horror on her face I quickly backtrack.

"Figuratively. Not literally. If you still have Coil's intelligence network online, this favor of mine will be a lot easier."

"I've already funneled a tenth of Coil's assets to Leaping Carp as a gesture of good faith," Lisa explains to me. "And yes, I've also taken over – how do you know this?"

I exaggerate my accent. "Ah like blondes. And I'm smart."

My voice drops to a whisper.

"A bunch of new friends I made need one of their own sprung from Yangban custody. Can you arrange a Yangban abduction for a friend of mine to help?"

Lisa turns white.

"...just make sure this doesn't come back to me or the Undersiders," she says in a single breath. "Also, we're planning to rebrand as independents, try to fill in the power gap vacated by Coil with more neutral elements."

"Don't worry about that for now," I say. "The Undersiders can remain as they are for the moment. As long as it's all flash and spectacle and no civilians get hurt, we're good. So, how does this weekend at Fugly Bob's sound?"

"Sounds great. Pardon me if I'll be bringing a friend along, just in case."

"That's a-ok with me. More friends, more fun. See you around, Lisa."

I walk away smiling – mission accomplished.

* * *

Several weeks later, the tag-team of supervillains Uber and Leet were in undiluted awe as they saw the newest member of the Travelers make her heroic debut, rebuffing the Empire 88's attempt to spring one of their high-level informants.

Everyone was in place, and the moment Hookwolf made his appearance, a girl wearing a domino mask and a black and red dress appeared on top of a stack of containers.

"I am the hand of justice! The savior of the downtrodden! On my oath of chivalry, you will be stopped!"

Hookwolf smiled.

"You couldn't stop a fly, little girl. What makes you think you can stop me?"

"BLAZER CHANGE!"

The girl bent low, brought her lower right arm up to eye level, pointed her left arm towards her right hand, and clenched both her fists for a few moments before waving her arms around in a semicircle.

"ACCESS!"

"Holy shit!" Uber exclaimed.

"Is she doing what I think she –" Leet added.

A sickly flash of black and red light formed around the girl, and when it subsided, she was in all-black armor with red accessories and a flowing red scarf.

"FUCK YEAH, SHE DID IT!" Uber said.

"WE SO HAVE GOT TO GET HER AUTOGRAPH NOW!" Leet chimed in.

And after a few more poses, the girl spoke in a more robotic tone.

"I AM KNIGHTBLAZER, AND I WILL DELIVER JUSTICE!"

She leaped down and sent Hookwolf hurtling back with a flying kick.

The battle that ensued had Uber and Leet glued to their seats, each with a bag of popcorn; their video-game related capers were nothing compared to the heroine they just witnessed.

Halfway across Brockton Bay, Katherine and Lisa were drawing up contingency plans in the event of the Teeth or the Elite making a play to fill in the spot Coil and his goons left behind.

Katherine's mobile phone rang, and she saw that it was Alice calling.

"Kath," Alice began, "we've been found out."

"By who?"

"Dragon. The PRT has already gone to the Leaping Carp offices looking for me. They're probably making their way to where you're at. Someone's helping them track us."

"And Kenta?"

"He says I should stay with you for the time being until this all blows over."

"Got it."

That was when the door decided to fall to the floor, and Armsmaster, flanked with several Dragon suits, walk in.

What's going on here?

* * *

Chapter 3 – **END**


	4. Ultimate Life Form

**disclaimer:** THIS IS THE TASTE OF [A LIAR] A NEW CHAPTER!

Also, I had already finished this chapter some time ago, I just couldn't be assed to post it due to various obligations. Second snippet of chapter 5 is already being worked on.

Anyway here's more Jodeci.

* * *

 _ **The Endless Pursuit of Perfection**_

 **Chapter Four: Ultimate Life Form**

* * *

Everything happened in an instant. I grabbed Lisa, jumped out the window, and a pair of wings sprouted from my back, slowing down my fall.

 _I need to get Lisa out of here,_ I thought while I heard Armsmaster and the Dragon suits preparing for the chase.

As soon as we hit the ground, I started running, ripple-enhanced footsteps mixed with flea-based musculature ensuring I take long, leaping strides and making effective distance before they even realize what's going on.

I sneak a look down and see Lisa looking up at me in a confused sort of way as I continue running forward, my brain locking into a specific point: Stronghold Industries, the former Fortress Construction and now running under another one of Lisa's aliases.

Halfway through our escape, I tap Lisa's clothing and give it chameleon DNA, to hide us in plain sight. I slow down in an alley and she alights, clutching her head.

"Are you okay, Lisa?" I ask.

"Not right now, Kath," she replies, biting her lip so hard it draws blood. "Having the mother of all migraines right now."

"Okay. But we have to get going soon, who knows why Dragon and Armsmaster are... hunting... me... down?"

Lisa just collapsed in a heap, and a female figure materialized in front of me, a perfect copy of Auguste Rodin's "The Thinker", except female, and outfitted and armored like an Amazon, with a gladiator's helmet emblazoned with a question mark in front.

You've got to be shitting me, I tell myself as the figure stands up and gestures at me in sign language.

"Five minutes until Lisa wakes up?"

The figure nods.

"Okay, I'll hold the fort here. What can you do?"

She brandishes a pair of flails and collapses a dumpster with a mere swing of one, and I see her smile underneath her helmet.

True to form, Lisa rouses in five minutes, and the figure went back to her previous pose as Lisa stood up.

"Sorry about that, Kath. Never had a thinker headache that bad be... who the heck is this ch—oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me."

"No time to explain," I say. "Let's blow this joint. We need to get to safety before anything."

She gave me the barest of nods before jumping onto my back, the figure giving me a smile before disappearing.

We emerged from the alley onto the dockyards, and made quick strides towards the hideout under the Stronghold headquarters, where Lisa moved the Undersiders' main hideout to.

* * *

"We've managed to push Hookwolf and the other E88 parahumans back," Acacia told me over the neural link just as I get Lisa home safe.

"Good," I say. "Keep out of trouble for now, the PRT's hunting us down. Don't give them anything that would link you to me."

"Roger that."

I open my eyes and the Undersiders are gathered before me, right after I bring Lisa there.

"So what's the plan now?" Lisa asked Brian. "The PRT saw me with Katherine, they'll no doubt revise their ratings on her."

"Not really," I reply. "We should lie low and gather information, first, about why this happened. Also, Lisa... there's something you need to know about the Thinker behind you – I can still see her."

"Yeah, about that..." Lisa said to her fellows. "Apparently, Katherine here was leaking out so much of her powers that I had this gigantic Thinker headache, and when I woke up, there was this Thinker ghost standing behind me and following me around."

"You'll have to contact the Speedwagon Foundation about that," I say. "They know more about that phenomenon more than I do."

"Will do," Lisa replied. "You guys don't see it?"

Her fellows shook their heads no.

"Well, when the heat dies down, get it looked at by someone from the foundation," I say as I turn to leave.

"Where are you going?" Brian asks me, and I smile.

"Straighten out the mess with the PRT," I reply. "While I still have the momentum on my side, best to explain what's going on."

The other Undersiders returned to their daily activities, and Lisa made a beeline for the computer.

"Wait, Katherine," she tells me. "My back door into the PRT mainframe says that your location was leaked by a Speedwagon Foundation employee."

"That helps a lot," I say. "Thanks, Lisa."

"Don't mention it," the blonde replies. "I'm going to see what this thinker ghost of mine can do, while I'm laying low."

* * *

I was walking on the Boardwalk and processing what just happened, talking to the odd voice in my head all the while.

 ** _We really need to get some answers from Speedwagon._**

 _That's true,_ I answer. _It seems I've become a blip in their radar, for a very good reason. First, it was Alice with that bomb ghost. Now it's Lisa with the thinker ghost._

 ** _Isn't that why you're out in the open and waiting for Dragon and/or Armsmaster to come and give you a nice, friendly chat?_**

 _It's more important to engage on my terms rather than theirs. Judging by the way they barged in, they were itching for a brawl._

 ** _Maybe the Foundation told them something about us?_**

 _Such as...?_

 ** _You are the definition of perfected potential,_** the voice in my head explains. **_The instant mastery of the ripple, the ability to incorporate abilities from various life forms seamlessly into your own... why, I'd wager that your use of our powers has already eclipsed mine. But for argument's sake, call yourself an ultimate life form for now. The details can come later._**

 _I see. So that's why I can parkour: fly precognition, flea movement, dragonfly larvae grip strength..._

 ** _...I also notice that you primarily employ the abilities of arthopods; I suppose it is a vestige of the part of your brain that allows you to be Taylor Hebert, comatose in Brockton Bay general; Katherine Arsenault here, and Acacia D'Castro with the Travelers._**

 _Yeah, we need to look into that as well._

The phone on our person rings, and strangely enough, it's the PRT Director calling.

"Miss Arsenault."

"Ma'am? I'm on the boardwalk and waiting for your subordinates to come pick me up. Or would you rather I go to the Rig and explain all this?"

"Your presence here would shed some light into a few... bizarre events that have been happening as of late. Have you heard about the crossbow attack on Winslow High School?"

Uh-oh.

"...Not really, no."

"Well, come on in, because there have been a lot of inconsistencies that you might be able to help unravel."

"All right. Expect me there in... ten minutes. No, make that fifteen, ma'am."

"Okay. To avoid making a scene, use the passwords 'antipode' when conversing with the guard at the entrance."

"Roger that, ma'am."

As soon as I replace my phone in my pocket, I break into a dead sprint. Fifteen minutes – I should be able to make it there in time.

* * *

As soon as I get to within a kilometer of the rig, I suppress all my abilities save one: my disguise.

Getting there wasn't a problem at all.

However, when the automated doors opened for me, there were several people with those ghosts standing behind them at the lobby, talking.

I head to the counter as inconspicuously as possible, hand over the note, wait a few moments for my guest card, and head to the elevator with no one the wiser – the people with ghosts didn't notice.

Thank goodness for small blessings.

* * *

"Well, to be honest, the imposition on your domicile was more of Dragon's initiative than Armsmaster," Director Piggot said, several minutes into our meeting. "I'm not completely sure as to what brought this about, but it's clear they both went in with more firepower than bringing you here to clarify some things warranted."

"I'd like to know what made Dragon that way," I reply magnanimously. "I'd rather straighten out this matter than resort to hostilities, if only because of Dragon's reputation and that this incident has been kept under wraps."

"Parahuman or not, I do know how to keep my friends close, as the quote goes," the director admitted. "I would like to know the cause of Taylor Hebert's death... or disintegration, as the rapporteur from the Speedwagon Foundation indicated."

Well. That's new.

"I will give you a sufficient explanation, Madame Director, if you would allow me a moment to skim through this... Speedwagon Foundation report," I say, and she picks up on my body language before handing me a small folder.

Five seconds in, I see what happened. Figures.

"Okay, this might surprise you a bit," I declare after handing the Director the folder back, and I step up from the chair, move back a bit… and transform to my actual look.

Director Piggot's reaction showed no surprise; she even had a nice grin on her face. Apparently, my transformation solved a puzzle in her mind.

"Well, there is some surprise, but overall, I think it answers a lot of questions," the Director replies, smiling at me. "And for that matter—"

The door is blown open and two people with yellow lightning on their arms stand in the doorway.

"Director! We detected a powerful P-reading! Are you all right?" one of them said.

"That's the girl who disintegrated! Did she become a zombie?" the other one asked.

Several tense moments passed. I couldn't transform nor use my armor or Ripple, and the Director was close by. That was too big a risk. Nor could I call on animal traits to help me, as it would probably goad them to attack further. What to do, what to do...

Director Emily Piggot sighed loudly, breaking the standoff.

"Mr. Joestar, Mr. Zeppeli, I can assure you that Miss Hebert is not the cause for concern you deem her as. And what is with your branding her a Teacher-level parahuman criminal?"

"You, well, and her... uh"

"She uses the Ripple even better and she teaches others, and..."

The sound of the PRT Director's hand smacking on the table shuts them up instantly.

"The two of you have not made a good enough entrance to justify me calling a meeting and straightening this matter out with everyone involved. Since you have called this an S-level alert, isn't it important that we cool our heads first instead of taking action so impulsively?"

The two men nodded.

"We'll speak later. For now, go to Armsmaster and say that Ms. Hebert and Ms. Arsenault will turn themselves in for a meeting at a properly-scheduled time, so we can talk things over like proper adults. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Joestar and Zeppeli answered.

"Now leave my office."

As soon as they went, I turned to the Director.

"S-Rank?"

"They showed me records of their battles with an entity that called itself an Ultimate Life Form. You've shown abilities that were similar to that, so I had Armsmaster talk to you. Unfortunately, those two got to Dragon first, and here we are."

"My apologies."

"Don't be," the Director said. "You, at least, have the good sense not to mess up my office. Good doors are so hard to find these days... but no matter. How soon are you available for a meeting with the Speedwagon Foundation to explain things?"

"Maybe this coming weekend," I reply.

"All right. Oh, and one final thing," the Director said. "I've done some investigation into your trigger event and the incident at Winslow, Miss Hebert. Our PR department has also swept the matter of the Foundation under the rug: official story is, they brought you here, you woke up here, Arsenault is in the wind."

"Thank you very much, ma'am," I say.

"I think it is you we should thank more," the Director admitted. "You'll understand more in time. For now, let us meet again on the weekend."

"Roger that," and I walk up to her and shake her hand, using a bit of my Ripple to flush out the toxins from her body before I leave.

* * *

I'm back to being Taylor Hebert.

Katherine is on the back burner for now.

Didn't know getting rid of idiots in the PRT would end up paying me dividends in the long run.

Anyway, with the advent of the Travelers and Undersiders going legit and strengthening Brockton Bay's hero population, the gangs have all lain low, and from what I heard, Kenta and Alice are sweeping their own unsavory elements out of the association altogether.

Alice called me complaining about the work load, but she said that the ABB will also be shifting from villainous to neutral when they were finished cleaning up.

At any rate, I was halfway home on my bus ride when a little girl entered and took up a seat next to me.

"Hi," she said, extending a hand when the bus started to move. "I'm Dinah."

"Taylor," I reply, taking it and shaking it.

"I knew it," she whispered, "you're that hero who saved me."

I get over my surprise immediately.

"The person who tried to kidnap you won't be a problem anymore," I reply quietly.

"That's not why I'm here," Dinah replied. "I'll tell you when you get home."

* * *

All of my thinking cause the bus ride to pass by in a veritable blur, and when Dinah and I alight at our stop, she nods, and what looks like a gigantic bundle of purple muscle materializes from behind her.

"Not too long after we met, I fell ill," Dinah replied. "When my fever broke, I found this guy hovering close to me. You can see him, can't you?"

I nod dumbly.

"Say hello to 'Everlong'," Dinah says, and the muscular purple [Stand] nods at me before taking a very fabulous pose.

Well crud, she even has the poses down right.

I am vaguely reminded of the strange things that have been going on in town since my awakening as something more than just a parahuman, and that this is just the beginning. Crazier... no, more bizarre events are due from here on out, I just know it.

But first, I need to introduce Dinah to my dad, who has missed me these couple weeks due to the crossbow attack on Winslow.

Is there something wrong with me that the fear I had when going to school is now... gone?

* * *

All of the things that have been happening to me lately all look like they took place in a blur.

Which is why when I found myself waking up to my alarm clock, in my room, I found myself severely disoriented.

I padded to the bathroom, wiped the mist from the mirror, and took a good look at myself.

I was once again in my original form: Taylor Hebert.

But the girl looking back at me wasn't the same Taylor that was doing this very same thing the day of the locker. Instead of hiding within myself, I was looking out at the world with a calm confidence, unashamed of who or what I was.

Ironic since I could use my powers to transform into an armored fighter that threw Ripple-powered blows, and I also could use the traits of any living being as I pleased, even modifying them on the fly.

Since the locker, I had helped several parahumans, fought several others, foiled a kidnapping attempt, took care of some outside context problems, went to another country to rescue a soon-to-be-brainwashed parahuman, and met the nice people from the Speedwagon Foundation, which appears to have more information about me than I know myself.

But that business would be done in the weekend. Today is a Tuesday. And memorable things happen on Tuesdays, even if one of them doesn't remember it.

I step out of the shower and dry myself off before opening my wardrobe, and my eyebrows furrow before I let out a snort of annoyance.

This was me then.

This isn't me now.

I wrap myself up with a towel and make my way to the guest room, where Mom's outfits were kept. Despite remembering her as a reliable and run-of-the-mill parent, those photographs of her and my Dad back in her college days indicated otherwise.

The smell of moth balls permeated my nostrils as I opened the chest of drawers, revealing old shirts and jeans that my mother used to wear, when she was still young, impressionable, and ran with a parahuman villain named Lustrum.

It takes me less than a minute to pick out an ensemble I like, and I go back to my room and fish out some of the accessories I had from a few years ago.

I look at the mirror once I apply the finishing touches to my outfit, and I smile.

It is everything I am now; an expression of just how fabulous the past few months of my life have been.

Dad naturally gapes when I descend the stairs for breakfast, and wordlessly passes a plate with bacon and eggs to me, and I dig in as soon as I thank him and say grace.

Today is going to be magnificent.

No, it's going to be fabulous.

* * *

I was accustomed to jogging to school then, and I haven't changed that habit now.

It seems that once my body has made contact with an item of clothing, it catalogs and stores it when not in use, for me to put on at a later time. So it is with a lot of ease that I jog the distance from home to Winslow in my usual pants-and-hoodie combo, taking long and easy strides while finding the stark beauty in the parahuman-ravaged city of Brockton Bay.

You'll rise again, some day. Even if I have to be the one to drag you out of this morass myself.

My thoughts about Brockton Bay come to an end when I enter the halls of Winslow without breaking my stride, moving to my locker and opening it to see its contents ravaged by what looks like some sort of acid.

I don't have time to deal with this, so I just procure the pen and notebook I brought, head over to one of the bathrooms, into a stall, and emerge in my actual outfit: a ruffled shirt in black that's supposed to be midriff-baring but is over a three-quarter length-sleeved skintight shirt in white up top, stripped jeans over stockings, and worn but comfortable sneakers.

Don't bother counting the accessories I have on or thinking how much they cost, they're just gold-painted.

As soon as I exit the bathroom and hear the bell ring, I don't walk to my classroom.

I swagger.

And students look.

Oh yes, they indeed look at me.

Because whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother you're staying alive.

I part the sea of Winslow students like I'm a prophet from legend as I stride to my destination, the sneakers drawing attention from the way I swing my legs when I walk, now.

It's refreshing.

In a way, it's like I'm making the statement "I got shoved in a locker and got three crossbow bolts in center mass, and I'm still here, looking better than ever!"

I spot one of the trio gawking at me: Madison Clements, and I raise my ridiculous heart-shaped glasses to my forehead so she can see me wink at her before concealing my eyes once more and turn to the classroom where the first period of the school day will be held.

* * *

Although I project an aura of cool indifference and confidence, I am quite wary that the Trio will strike sometime within this school day.

Nearly all of the day passes by, and just as everyone is dismissed, I find three girls awaiting my classroom exit. Predictable, really.

"Well, look who the cat dragged in."

"She's really gone off her rocker this time."

"They should have dragged you to the Principal, Hebert. You've gone insane."

They see one of my eyebrows inch above my sunglasses.

I smile at them.

"You know, being away from Winslow for a while helped me out a bit. I mean, even then, I didn't care much about what the three of you keep saying. Now, though? I don't care at all."

Sophia steps into my personal space, but with a quick twist on the balls of my feet, she ends up nearly smacking her head onto one of the lockers, only stopping at the last moment.

"I mean, really, I asked myself if I wanted to spend the rest of my time here hanging onto your every word? And surprisingly, the answer came out 'no'."

"You're prey, Taylor. Always have been, always will be," Emma replied, though I could sense her beginning to sweat and her heart beating faster. For that matter, the other two are, as well. It looked like I was the one being cornered, but no, I'm not the one in fight or flight mode.

"See, that's the thing," I say. "For predators, you three seem woefully incompetent. Bully me for the good part of a year? Got through it. Shove me in a locker full of gunk? Got through it. Take three bolts in the chest?"

My smile widens as they take a step back from me.

"I'm still here. And for all your predatory rhetoric, you fail to account for one thing."

My voice drops down to a whisper.

"I'm fucking invincible."

I don't bother to see how they react, because I turn and walk away, waving to them as I leave Winslow and head home; Lisa, Noelle and Alice need to hear about this.

I step out of school knowing that I've thrown down the gauntlet. Either they realize what they're doing is [useless], or one of them does something really stupid – even more stupid than shooting at me with a crossbow in school in broad fucking daylight.

When I hear Sophia screaming in the background, I chuckle to myself. Not my fault you're using the rope I'm giving you to make a noose. It's your choice to climb out of the hole you've dug yourselves into.

* * *

Despite my grand return to Winslow as Taylor Hebert, I am still able to live a double life as Acacia, and I can change to Katherine if the need arises, not counting our armored forms as Knight Blazer and Obelisk, respectively.

What's even funnier is that Uber and Leet decided to join forces with the Travelers – who, despite their name, have already done quite a good job settling into Brockton Bay as independent heroes of their own.

If they're not defending the Dockyards, the two previously-thought-of low-tier supervillains spent their time choreographing fight scenes, directing action sequences, and having the Travelers either act out or assist – their independent film works are beginning to make waves nationwide.

Or maybe it was because they were smitten with Acacia the Knight Blazer, and would often team up with her on patrols (this was actually how they joined the Travelers, funnily enough).

Dinah still lives with her parents, and she says that since acquiring Everlong, the intensity and duration of her headaches has gone down drastically. After dinner with Dad, she made her offer: if I were to put together a group of independent parahumans, she would be the first one in line to join.

I reluctantly gave her my consent, but advised her to wait a few weeks so that she could go to the PRT and/or the Speedwagon Foundation to get her and Everlong looked at.

Since scaring the Undersiders straight, they – Lisa, mostly – took control over Coil's mercenaries and are now working as an independent PMC.

I write down my thoughts on the last page of my diary: the smoking gun I planned to pass to prove the things Emma and the others were doing to me.

I shut the diary and think: it doesn't matter anymore. I'm free.

All this good happening in so short a time; the other shoe's bound to drop anytime soon, the crossbow attack on me notwithstanding.

And sure enough, it does, the moment a crossbow bolt crashes into my bedroom window. I am out of our house in moments, only to be confronted by the Ward Shadow Stalker, standing on the street and itching for a fight.

"You've got a lot of guts pulling this shit off, Sophia," I say, Ripple crackling across my body as I assume my armored form. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat you to within two inches of your life, drag you to Amy, and have her heal you only for me to beat you within one."

She lowers the crossbow to the ground and raises her arms in surrender.

"I didn't shoot you back then."

I snort, the vents in my helmet causing a small gust of wind to blow out.

"Maybe, but that was your crossbow. Besides," I ask, the blade from my arm emerging, "there's this old saying: never bullshit a bullshitter. Not very predatory of you, throwing whoever shot me under the bus."

"It was Emma. She knows where I stash my weapons."

My retort to her admission was a humorless laugh.

"And you're going to me instead of the PRT. Once again, not very… predatory of you, Sophia. Is that little hitch in your voice the first hints of… fear I'm hearing?"

I take a step forward, and I can see her knees beginning to shake.

"Or are you... dare I say this, asking for my help?"

She couldn't move.

"I'm going to give you the one-word answer: no. Why would I go out of my way to help out one of the three people who took it upon themselves to fuck me over?"

Shadow Stalker took a hissing breath before she replied.

"I was the one who turned Emma against you," she grit out, the words feeling like ashes in her mouth she just had to get rid of, "And I'm sorry, all right? It's just that this is a matter of life and death!"

The helmet comes off.

"Just like the locker, and the crossbow…" I reply, my Ripple-saturated eyes seeing through her. "Pretty sure you wouldn't come out of it unscathed like I did, so... sucks to be you, I guess. Now why don't you run to the good people of the PRT and tell them about your predicament? Pretty sure prey doesn't protect predators."

I gathered Ripple into my hands and smacked my palm with my fist, remembering the note I palmed on Sophia when she tried to tackle me earlier in the day: "I still have the bolts, Sophia", and I was expecting vindication to come with a giant parade and confetti, not a nighttime discussion with someone who already knows who you are under the mask.

"You have a better shot throwing your lot in with them than me... now get lost."

She picked up her crossbow and left.

I never saw her again after that.

Emma and Madison didn't show up to school the day after, too.

I never really bothered to figure out what happened to them... let what is past stay in the past.

Besides, with them out of the way, it's one – no, three – less worries on my mind.

I would only find out their fate much, much later.

* * *

Of course, given my luck, three days into their disappearance, I was sent to Blackwell's office, where I was placed in a veritable Spanish Inquisition as to where three of their fine and upstanding students went.

They called my entire suite of acquaintances: Dad, Greg, other classmates, even Emma's family, trying to figure out where their "precious daughter" ended up in, and it kind of disturbed me that I could not honestly answer their questions, because I really didn't know.

And given that I already know the connection between Sophia Hess and Shadow Stalker, before I was due to meet with the Speedwagon Foundation, I was brought to a meeting room and subjected to the same thing, but instead of a straitlaced high school principal, it was the head of the Protectorate asking me about the last time I saw Shadow Stalker.

I give them the abridged version of the midnight encounter, saying that I warned Shadow Stalker off, and that she crossed a line going after my civilian identity, even if it was to ask for help.

"That wasn't very heroic of you," Armsmaster said after I give my account.

"Not every hero is Dudley-Do-Right. I have issues with Shadow Stalker, and driving her away was the most I could do without actually escalating to violence," I explain. "I DO have history with the missing girls too, you know."

"You haven't gone after them? Not once?" Armsmaster asked, and I shake my head.

"It would be so easy to," I reply, taking a deep breath before maneuvering the conversation towards my trigger event. "But I made my choice to carry on despite the three of them continuing to harass me after that incident in January."

I could sense the hero's surprise at how forthright and detached my admission was. The question though, was this because I did not want to be the Taylor before I triggered, or because was I already so much more than the Taylor before, that something like this was beneath me completely?

The Protectorate hero sensed my apprehension.

"If they do show up again, contact us immediately," he says. "You have my card."

"...Am I free to go?"

"For now," Armsmaster answers. "This has been quite difficult for you, so if you wish to reschedule your appointment with the Foundation..."

I stand up and smile at the hero. "I'm tougher than most. Don't worry too much."

With that, I make for the door, and the guards let me through, guiding me towards the temporary office of the Speedwagon Foundation where my interview about my odd powers would lead me to understand a bit more about who and what I really was.

* * *

"Taylor Hebert," I say, extending my hand to the same two gentlemen who had knocked over Director Piggot's office door.

"John James Joestar," the dark-haired one says, his movements limited by the fancy suit being worn as he shakes my hand. "Call me JJ, but Mr. Joestar is fine, too."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Joestar," I say before holding out my hand towards the blond.

"Nero Claudius Zepelli," he says, moving stiffly as well due to the suit as he shakes my hand. "Hmm. My old man Tiberius is the Mr. Zepelli back at the main office, so just call me Nero."

"All right then, Nero," I say, and we are seated in one of the smaller conference rooms. The two men exchange a look before turning back to me.

"All right, first things first," JJ begins, gesturing towards the projector, where a series of images in the Mexican rainforest were displayed. "The first time the Foundation ran into something we called a Pillar Man was around just before the Second World War. These were humans who had the capability of hibernating in a rock-like state for centuries or even millennia at a time."

More slides, showing a trio of muscular men. "These were the Pillar Men we fought against: Extreme, Alias, and Velvet Revolver. Their objective was to remove their weakness to sunlight..."

The slides continued, and more pictures were shown.

"…and we barely managed to succeed, because the device they needed ultimately malfunctioned," JJ finished, returning to his chair and fixing his eyes on me. "Which brings us to you."

Nero showed some video of me assisting the Travelers.

"Based on what we deciphered from the documents of Niju Matchbox – the last Pillar Man – their completed form not only lost the weakness to sunlight, but also unparalleled and near-instantaneous learning ability and mastery over life itself, to the point where their theorized Ultimate Life Form can take on the abilities of multiple living creatures and use them quickly, flawlessly, and innovatively."

He took a deep breath.

"My grandfather Augustus gave his very life to ensure the Pillar Men would not endanger humankind. But with what we've seen from you... you check all the boxes required for an Ultimate Life Form. However, we at the Foundation are at a very strange junction: your character is nowhere near that of the Pillar Men – you are heroic, though a bit unscrupulous. Tell us: how did you gain this power?"

I smile coquettishly at the two.

"It would be very bad form for me to decline, because you have implied that we shall have an equivalent exchange of information, do we not?"

They look a bit confused.

"I've gained a lot of insight from your story. Courtesy says I should give you mine; so I shall answer your question. I have to wonder, though, given your understanding of trigger events..."

JJ was quick to smile at me, while Nero gave me a thoughtful look.

"That's unprecedented," he admits. "You gained ultimate power during what parahuman research calls a trigger event?"

"Pardon me if I am loath to discuss the details with you," I say, nodding and confirming his suspicions.

"All right, then," Nero continued. "According to our notes here, trigger events often come with a psychedelic vision. If you can tell us what you remember seeing in the vision – and only in the vision – that will be really helpful to us."

"I'll do my best," I say, and when I turn my head to the side, JJ is holding a sketchbook and color pencils.

 ** _Seriously?_**

The voice inside me laughs at how the interview is going.

* * *

Thirty mind-boggling minutes later, JJ and Nero take me to one of the rooms they use for power testing, and a man in a lab coat walks over to us – I can see the faint outline of a pink humanoid hovering behind him.

"You've made good timing," the man declared. "We just finished setting up the Ripple reading equipment for testing Miss Hebert."

"Okay...?" I ask, and upon seeing my confusion, JJ steps back and takes off his suit jacket, placing it on a chair while he pulls the tie off and undoes the top button on his shirt to breathe easier.

"Right, Taylor, this is something we made to measure Ripple aptitude for people. Everyone in the Foundation can use the Ripple, so we train them regularly to maximize what they can do. This glass dome contains and quantifies the potency of the Ripple you use. Let me demonstrate."

JJ breathes, and thrusts an empty palm forward to the glass dome. Yellow lightning crackles, and the machinery displays a graph, showing medium power but very high control.

"Your turn," he says, and guides me to the machine.

"Just do what feels natural, this isn't a combat test, some of our fighters have dented the machine by going all-out, which made the final reading inaccurate, so they had to do it again," Nero notes to me.

"All right, here I go," I say, and I copy JJ's stance, breathe...

...and I push my palm forward, my own Ripple crackling along my hand.

"That's… that's unheard of," Nero gasps, and I see the machinery displaying a graph showing astronomical power and surgical control, "she really IS an ultimate life form!"

"Uh... Sorry?" I ask, and the man in the lab coat laughs.

"Don't be!" he says. "Until now, Ultimate Life Forms were thought to be a myth by our researchers. You just confirmed what we were all thinking. So nice and humble, too, unlike those delinquents I have to work with!"

"Taylor Hebert," I say.

"I already know," he says, and eyes my hand for a good few seconds before shaking it. "Kira. Yoshikage Kira. Before you make a comment, my mother and that girl Alice's mother are cousins."

The pink humanoid behind him snaps its fingers because of its wielder's joy.

"By the way, before you leave, could you return here?"

"Sure thing," I say, bewildered, before an equally dumbfounded JJ and Nero motion me back to their office.

* * *

"First of all, we're going to start by apologizing," JJ begins when we are again seated in the Foundation office. "The only encounters we had with Pillar Men were hostile, so we were a bit on guard. Imagine our shock when the Pillar Man and/or Ultimate Life Form we run into is actually a teenage girl who moonlights as a hero! Guess all our fears were for nothing."

"What this oaf said," Nero continues, "and more. The caretakers of the Kujo estate were the ones who first vouched for your character when the news broke that you helped the family heiress Alice from her own parahuman problem."

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in surprise. "Heiress?!"

JJ nodded. "The Speedwagon Foundation is a close-knit business; a lot of us here are related by blood or by battle. Alice Imai is the last of the Kujo bloodline. Nero and I are second-born, so we're not tasked to throw out our wild oats just like my grandfather did. Another thing about your status as an Ultimate Life Form – which you need to keep a secret, no ifs, ands or buts – is that you can share our proprietary knowledge of the Ripple with others. Haven't you noticed that the Ripple comes to you as easily as breathing?"

Nero jabs his fellow in the side with an elbow, getting him to yelp and me to chuckle.

"Sorry, that was unintentional. Anyway," he continues, "there won't be any problems with the Foundation if you have a discerning eye as to who you will teach the Ripple to. It's also a perk of being an Ultimate Life Form – your intelligence and perception will allow you to mentally digest difficult concepts and rephrase them in a way that ordinary people can handle. It won't just be the Ripple, but other things as well. By the way, have you been noticing ghostly people hovering behind some of us?"

I nod warily.

"Another theory confirmed," Nero says with a smile. "We've yet to complete the association between the Ripple and Stands, and you've helped us yet again."

"Stands? What are those?"

"You've already seen them. They are spiritual manifestations of their wielder, often with their own powers. It's a long story to explain; we've already briefed Alice on the basics, she can get you up to speed on what we already know."

"But be warned," JJ says, his jovial tone becoming serious, "that Stands and Stand users tend to converge. You can sense them, don't you? They are awakening here in Brockton Bay."

"Which is why we're going to give you probationary membership in the Foundation, so that if you spot a rogue Stand user within this city, you can communicate with this Stand user on our behalf and possibly add to our roster of investigators of stand-related phenomena," Nero continues. "And we'd also love an Ultimate Life Form on our team, I won't lie. So... are you in?"

"Never thought you'd ask," I say, and shake their hands.

* * *

After signing the necessary paperwork, I remember my appointment with Yoshikage Kira, and pass by his laboratory for a while.

"Dr. Yoshikage?"

I open the office to see him with a generous amount of molding clay in his hands.

"Ah, I thought you'd never come," he said. "I have but a small favor to ask."

"What kind of favor is it?"

"When I am not doing work for the Foundation, I run a horror-themed shop. Fake masks, rubber hands, Halloween costumes, the works. I see you have a very pretty set of hands – do you mind if I make a mold them to make a rubber copy of, for my shop?"

I flash the doctor a thousand-watt smile.

"Go right ahead, Dr. Yoshikage."

I notice that he has the smile of a Bodhisattva during the entire time he encases both my hands in molding clay, and when he finishes his molding of each of my hands, it looks like his consciousness took a trip to seventh heaven and returned with a t-shirt.

"Thank you," he says, his voice quavering with unexpected veneration. "Thank you very much."

"Will I see you around here again, Doctor?" I ask.

"The Foundation has need for my... special talents, especially now, in a city like this. I am not quite convinced that the phenomenon here is the same as the Stands we catalog... there needs to be more research done. Anyway, thank you again, Miss Hebert."

He guides me out of his office in a very dignified manner, and I am left wondering the cause of this even as I start the long bus ride home.

When I do, it is already dark, and Dad has not yet returned from his Docks job. I check our answering machine, and am quite surprised to hear a forwarded message to me from Alice.

"Heya, Kath. Turns out my Stand's name isn't Pentacle Page after all – it's Explosions in the Sky," her message began. "Anyway, Mr. Takahashi is keeping me busy until I can go back to school. I've got a free day tomorrow at the Boardwalk, so I'll be waiting for you at the corner of Parian's boutique from ten to ten-thirty tomorrow morning. Hope to see you there!"

Click.

Though I am at peace with today's revelations, something else bothers me: is the sudden rise of Stands and the disappearance of the trio related?

Those thoughts carry me to a fitful sleep, and I don't bother waiting for Dad to come home.

* * *

As soon as I alight from the Boardwalk bus, I am expecting to have a quiet day talking with Alice, but all that is rent asunder when a beam of light blows up Parian's shop.

I see Alice out of the corner of my eye, with her Stand Explosions carrying an unconscious Parian, and sweep my vision upward to see a woman of light hovering above the chaos she created.

It looks like a heroine's job is never over, I tell myself as I dash to the shadows and emerge as Katherine, Alice spotting me immediately and making her way to my location.

In the meantime, I'm already using my flea modifications on my legs to leap up, the armor around my body forming as the panicking townsfolk ignore me.

The glowing woman finds me too late as I tackle her out of the sky and onto the ground, but before I can get a good hit in, she blasts me away. I recover at the same time she does, and as I hold my arm blade at the ready, I can't help but ask the question.

"What's all this about?"

"You wouldn't understand, Obelisk," the woman of light replies.

She doesn't see me smirk under the mask.

"All right," I say, "Try and make me."

I dodge the first blast, and I'm on my way towards her, fists wound up for a punch…

Chapter 4 - **END**

* * *

 **Author's notes:** For those curious about Taylor's new outfit, google "tsurumaki kokoro happy happy revolution", now visualize adding a three-quarter-length sleeve skintight undershirt to it - that's it.

Also, if you're wondering how Taylor remembers the trigger vision with clarity, it's because of the mental improvement given to her by becoming an Ultimate Life Form.

Have an omake to tide you over until I cough out Chapter 5, most likely over the holidays.

* * *

"...you don't understand. Our business group depends on my son and my partner's daughter..."

"Shut up," Taylor cut her off with enough venom and deadly intent in her voice that the businesswoman became quiet immediately. "Instead of going to the Foundation to try and work something out, you use your child as a bargaining piece, and belittle his choice as a 'gold digger' or 'someone without class', when the person in front of me is the very definition of classless: someone who loves things and uses people. Not just people, I might add, her only son, too. And don't bother going after him. I took him to the Foundation with a copy of all your business transactions and recordings showing just how much of a heartless bitch you are. And yes, he's with that girl, too. Far away from you."

She smacked her fist onto her open palm.

"I'm no angel, but I can be content with knowing I'm not as disgusting a human being as you. And being a good person..."

A blue man in Aztec-inspired finery burst forth from behind her.

 **"...ISN'T SOMETHING YOU CAN BUY WITH MONEY!"**

The next thirty seconds became pain for the former CEO of the Domyouji group as Star Platinum pummeled her in a constant barrage of punches, all the while shouting **"ORA ORA ORA ORA!"**

The final punch embedded her in the wall, and Taylor took a sheet of paper, writing on it before letting it float away, towards the woman she just beat to an inch of her life using Star Platinum.

"Here's your [receipt]." _  
_

 _Taylor Hebert_


	5. Practical Magic & Weird Science

disclaimer: **EVERY TIME I CLOSE MY EYES, I WAKE UP FEELING SO HORNY**

* * *

 _ **The Endless Pursuit of Perfection**_

 **A Worm / Jojo's Bizarre Adventure fanfic**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Practical Magic and Weird Science**

* * *

Using a powerful Ripple distorts one's sense of time, or so I thought before the meeting with the Foundation. Turns out, I gain power as an Ultimate Being based on what I need at the moment. If I need calmness to make proper judgments in the heat of battle, my senses are enhanced to the point where I can string together thoughts and implement upgrades to my body at unbelievable speed.

Right now, I am engaged in a melee fight with the parahuman known as Purity, and she's meeting me blow for blow.

I never really bought into the 'fighters communicate through their fists' nonsense Uber was on, but it seems like with Purity, it works: I can feel her desperation.

 ** _You're not the parahuman she wanted to draw out._**

 _Based on her switching from firing lasers to throwing punches with her power massively increasing their impact, I think she was gunning for Glory Girl._

 ** _And Glory Girl almost never shows up without..._**

 _...Panacea._

 ** _She's causing a scene in the Boardwalk because she wants Panacea to show up, and the Boardwalk is normally in New Wave's patrol route._**

 _However, it is not at this time that the hero group is patrolling this location._

 ** _I can only think of one good reason why someone wants Panacea to appear, and immediately. Add to that the desperation in her strikes..._**

 _Someone close to her is in danger._

 ** _Try diplomacy?_**

 _Try diplomacy._

I catch her punch, the bottom part of my mask slides up, and I shout.

"How urgent is it that you need Panacea?"

The light wavers for a moment.

"Right now?"

She still doesn't respond.

"I can't help you if I don't know what's going on!" I yell at her, and the light around Purity's head subsides somewhat, revealing her masked face.

"Theo's getting worse, I need Panacea now, he could perish at any moment...!" Purity shouts in a panic.

My eyes widen to dinner plates as I hear the fear in her voice, and I quickly delegate to Acacia, telling her to call New Wave and bring Amy to the appointed location immediately.

"I've called her, now tell me what happened," I reply, and Purity pries herself off me, throwing another blow.

The suddenness of the attack prompts me to use the Ripple to ward off the attack, and immediately, she stops.

"That power... I refused to believe it until I saw it firsthand... you'll do!" she said. "Come on, you might be able to help Theo!"

"What about Parian's shop?" I ask.

"Tell her I'll pay for the damages, I just needed to grab New Wave's attention in a hurry!" she replies as she retreats, heading over into the residential district like a shooting star, with me following suit.

* * *

The former Empire supervillain uses her power to hide from the visual spectrum halfway through the flight, and I do the same with my own chameleon-related powers, using her parahuman abilities as a beacon so I can follow her without much fuss.

A minute of flying later, and I sense her in an apartment building in the affluent part of the district. Tracking her, I take the same route she does, knock on the apartment door, and when a blonde man and woman open it itching for a fight...

"Dorothy, Geoff, stand down," I hear Purity's voice from within the apartment. "She's here to help."

I quickly remove my armor to reveal my guise as Katherine, step over the threshold... and nearly collapse, as an immense amount of power is being brought to bear in one of the bedrooms.

Upon my entry into the room with Purity and the anomaly, I am quite surprised at the sight: a frazzled woman is placing cold compresses onto the forehead of a shivering boy lying in bed.

That wasn't the surprise.

A gigantic Stand is beginning to take form at the head of the boy's bed, and I can see it sucking the life force out of him in outrageous amounts.

"It's manifesting," I observe. "Panacea's ability won't work against something like this."

"Can you at least do something for Theo?" the frazzled woman asks, turning to me.

I walk up and hold Theo by his cold and clammy hand, and realize what needs to be done.

"He needs a huge infusion of energy to survive manifesting this," I say. "But an infusion this large can permanently seal away his parahuman abilities. Are you sure about this?"

The woman's face turns resolute.

"Do it."

* * *

It's after Theo's fever breaks and Kayden – the frazzled woman moonlighting as Purity – gives her son a teary-eyed hug of relief before giving me one out of gratitude when the four of us are assembled in the living room of the apartment.

"I never believed it would strike this close to home," Kayden began, shaking her head. "I always thought the stories Mom said about great-uncle Rudol were too fantastic to be true... given what we've become, he'd probably be rolling in his grave right now... wherever he is."

She gestures towards the couple.

"Dorothy and Geoff here were one of the first parahuman experiments made... and judging by the look of your face, you don't exactly approve."

"I can give your personalities back somewhat," I tell the couple, "but with the damage and degree to which your powers have consumed your brains..."

They nod at me.

"Thank you for the offer," Geoff says, "but we must decline. This is all Dorothy and I have known for so long... changing it would be... unwelcome."

Dorothy clasps her husband's hand.

"Do not think of this as rejecting your offer... someone offering to help us with no strings attached... is new."

"This doesn't come without strings, Mrs. Anders…"

"von Stroheim," Kayden interrupts me. "My maiden name is Kayden Russel von Stroheim."

"…but the amount of energy needed for Theo has removed his parahuman potential," I continue.

She looks completely unsurprised by the remark as she nods to me.

"That's fair," she says. "I do not want Theo to be mixed up in the Empire business. Does it intrigue you, the fact that Theo is not my son in blood, but I care for him as a mother does? Because that is how he is seen in the Empire – a tool."

"Is that why you took Dorothy and Geoff with you when you left?"

"That is so," she replies. "I presume you have other business to attend to, so I shall not burden you any further."

"Give this to Parian, with my apologies," she says, after withdrawing a checkbook from her purse and signing an amount before handing the check over to me. "I need to contact the Speedwagon Foundation as well."

I see Dorothy and Geoff hovering over a crib in another room before turning back at Kayden.

"Thanks," I say. "Do you know what caused this to happen to your son?"

"No," Kayden replies, "I suppose we will find out when he finally wakes up."

* * *

It is only after the weekend that Kayden leaves me a message, telling me that her son was shot with an arrow by a cloaked assailant. An APB was put out for what appeared to be Shadow Stalker, with no results so far.

Could this be another lead to figuring out what happened to the Trio?

* * *

I run into Kayden – with Dorothy and Geoff hovering a distance behind her – at the Boardwalk after Monday classes. From there, we head over to where Parian's shop is being reconstructed, and where Kayden offers her apology in person and in costume – the husband and wife duo are that good at diverting attention so no one can see a mousy, unassuming and slightly harried housewife transform into a former supervillain.

Parian, understanding the kind of strain a mother would be under during those circumstances, acknowledges the apology and thanks Purity for "being straight" with her about the matter, and it was enough to put a smile to my face.

When that was done and Purity returned to being Kayden, we had a meal in one of the many restaurants on the Boardwalk, talking shop while Geoff and Dorothy were having their own meal several tables away.

"I've done my homework on you, Katherine," she says, while we wait for the main course. "You like to make a lot of new friends, and do favors for them, too… the kind of favors that have a large price tag slapped on them."

"That is so," I reply, "however, it is not the kind of favor that you are accustomed to, in your previous line of employment. If I plan on cashing in on any favors owed me, know that I have already begun doing so with the people I have helped these past few weeks. Besides, my requirement is not that I be paid back; it is that they pay it forward."

She digests my statement in silence while she and I await today's special, and I find myself deep in thought.

 _They don't smell like the Travelers or that other PRT cape; the woman in black and yellow,_ I tell the voice in my head.

 ** _It means that the Nazis are not responsible for these artificial parahumans,_** the voice replies, thoughtful. **_How goes our modification project, by the way?_**

 _Transformation time has gone down to 0.1 seconds,_ I reply. _We are not getting any faster. Maybe a mutation encouraging faster nerve velocity would help?_

 ** _That would require modifying your base neurotransmitters from the ground up,_** he answers. **_And it would decommission you for some time; Acacia is good at playing 'Taylor Hebert', but not perfectly._**

It's another thing that bothers me. Acacia can't hear this guy, but I can.

 _Still… those arrows…_

 ** _…They are relics from before I slumbered for the last time,_** he replies. **_What was known as the Arrow is a device meant to test the capabilities of the human spirit, slaying those it deems unworthy._**

 _But that boy..._

 ** _It is true. You may have saved Theodore Anders with that infusion of ripple energy, but his spirit is still unworthy._**

 _What happens to those who do become worthy?_

 ** _Their spirit manifests. I believe the Foundation calls them Stands. You know of several here in Brockton Bay already: Alice, Dinah, Lisa. A word of warning, though. Based on my research, just like parahumans, Stand users are driven into conflict with one another; as the mechanisms by which Stands manifest require a person's drive for discord and ambition to work._**

 _So Theodore has no power or a useless Stand?_

 ** _If there is one lesson you need to learn without paying the price like I did, it is that you must never underestimate the power of the human spirit._**

 _Why am I able to perceive Stands?_

I sense the voice hesitating.

 ** _It is… because of my acquired mastery of what you call the Ripple. It energizes one's body and spirit, allowing a skilled practitioner to perceive Stands, as Stands are manifestations of their user's spirit._**

 _Anything else I need to know that the Foundation didn't tell me?_

 ** _Only that Stands are just as varied as their users, and that knowing a user may not necessarily correlate with knowing their Stand._**

When I am brought back into the fold, I see that lunch has already finished, Kayden has picked up the check, and is about to thank me for the company.

With the revelations given to me by this mysterious voice, I dully shake her hand before we go our separate ways.

As soon as they do, the force of revelation strikes me with enough force that it stops my heart for a few moments and makes me take a step back.

Disregarding everyone and everything around me, I take off running to the Brockton Bay Library.

* * *

 _So... that's how..._

The voice in my head laughs.

 ** _It seems you have melded my genius with your intuition, my child,_** he says. ** _But the question is, what will you do with the knowledge you have gained? You cannot blindly tell the PRT about this, given the holes in their security._**

I snort.

 _All the trust in the world? For all their claims to be the best in this country, the PRT still couldn't spot two bad apples in their barrel. I wouldn't trust them to find their tallywhacker with a 20-man scouting party._

 ** _Even then, you need to be ready._**

 _That's why we're working on this now. Ultimate life form or not, I can still grow stronger, faster, smarter._

 ** _It is an inevitability that someone with our power will clash with the group called the Slaughterhouse Nine,_** he says sagely. ** _Now that you know this…_**

 _…I have friends._

 ** _It's not enough._**

 _I have a team._

 ** _It won't be enough._**

 _What would I need?_

 ** _A pocket full of aces,_** the voice answers before it trails off, laughing all the way.

I hurriedly turn off the library computer, wiping my digital trail as best I can before heading home.

And waiting for me upon my arrival is a young man with a black shirt and white jacket.

"Heya, Taylor," he says, smiling sadly at me.

"Hey yourself, Cody," I reply. "What brings you here?"

* * *

"…what I'm saying is that you're here right now and stronger for it, thanks to Noelle," I conclude as I finish off the cup of tea I set up for Cody as we speak in the back yard of my home. "If you want to pursue your vengeance, that is entirely your prerogative; I can only try to talk you out of it."

I pay no attention to his shaking hands and look him in the eyes.

"I mean, if you're going to do it, then go right ahead; I'm not going to stop you. But remember: Noelle pulled a lot of strings to get you back here and back with the Travelers. Even someone like her would be heartbroken if you just went off and wasted your second chance like this. So what's it going to be?"

His power was beginning to ebb and flow.

"Here's a word of advice," I said. "You're free to take it or not. But if I were you, I'd keep my eyes and ears open for a chance at revenge. It can be as simple as brushing shoulders or a conversation."

I heard myself talk and I laughed mirthlessly within.

 _Not too long ago I was an emotional wreck and at the mercy of my high school bullies. Now, I'm still around, they're not, and I'm dispensing advice to someone who got fucked over worse than I did._

 _Irony, you work quickly,_ Taylor thought as his power was beginning to subside.

"Also, Noelle hasn't quite forgiven herself for what happened yet. Neither do your friends. Gaining powers didn't help. Being where the Simurgh was didn't help, too. I mean... that breathing trick I taught all of you... it's supposed to help in mastering the self, so I heard."

Cody finally calmed down enough to take a sip of his tea and look up towards me.

"You think everything's going back to the way it was?" he asked quietly.

"No," I shake my head before continuing, "but all of you can at least try to rebuild again. You guys just need enough time to hold what just happened at arm's length. Can Noelle and I get at least that from you?"

A small smile finally appeared on his lips.

"Yeah," he said. "You can."

It was at this time that Dad returned home, and after some awkward ribbing, dad jokes, obligatory vague threats and posturing from my Dad (which Cody took with good humor, romance was never on my menu, and he still had some things to work out with himself and his friends), the recently-rescued Traveler finally left.

"Do you think I did a good enough job of straightening him out, Dad?" I asked. "He was the odd one out among his friends, and apparently they got into a huge fight whose fallout they're still dealing with."

"You've done what you can, kiddo," Dad replied. "It's up to them to continue what you've started."

"I hope so," I say, and I really mean it.

Acacia can keep an eye on them while I study at home.

* * *

Another week passes by uneventfully.

At this point, Uncle Alan and Emma's family have long since lost hope that they'll find their daughter.

I'm supposed to feel some sort of joy from the Trio's comeuppance, but not really. The empty looks on Aunt Zoe and Anne's faces – their ghastly, empty stares – tell me everything: it's a stark mirror image reflecting mine, back when they buried my mother.

 ** _Why do you trouble yourself with them?_**

 _Sometimes I forget that you don't quite understand humanity or human beings, whoever you are._

 ** _It would be enlightening to me if you could answer my question._**

 _Do you know that phrase? "I will not harm, but will only help if an opportunity to help appears"? That's what I'm planning. I never liked them, but their families deserve closure. It doesn't mean I'm going to go out of my way to try and find them, but if they run into my path, I will help._

 ** _Again, why go through all the trouble?_**

 _It's not about me. It's about giving their families the peace of mind they deserve._

 ** _I do not understand._**

 _You'll do... eventually._

* * *

Way back when, I found the Boat Graveyard to be a great area to start training my abilities. Even now, that hasn't changed, even when everything around me has.

It is during the time I spend away from my responsibilities as Taylor that I am able to "cut loose" as Obelisk and see the full extent of my capabilities using the Ripple: using it in tandem with my stated abilities as Obelisk and the restrictions on Acacia's Knight Blazer form reveal many of its strengths and its few weaknesses.

One of those is the need to breathe. The voice in my head gave me some tips, but ultimately let me take the lead in creating several redundant respiratory systems to allow me to breathe both underwater and when my human respiratory system is otherwise occupied.

I nearly caused a panic topside when I successfully moved one of the wrecks of a passenger ship out of the shallow shelf, sending it down into the deeper waters with a Ripple-powered punch.

But I found that it worked, and before long, I found two familiar presences close by whenever I trained: the Joestar and the Zeppelli. JJ liked imbuing objects with the Ripple, using his Stand with sleight-of-hand to maximize its effectiveness. Tiberius, on the other hand, used his Stand more offensively.

Thus, over the last several days, I trained with them, learning that Tiberius' Stand had the rather embarrassing name of "Candy Pop", but JJ's Stand took the cake: his Stand was called "Whip It", and took the form of a purple vine whip.

Today was their last day at Brockton Bay, seeing that their business was already concluded, which was to establish a Foundation office here. To no one's surprise, it was Alice who ended up given that responsibility.

I was with Alice when she broke the news to her boss.

"What I need of you is your intellect," he said as he signed the papers promoting her to an independent consultant. "Just be on standby should I have need of it, I have no need to interfere in your work with the Foundation."

A befuddled Alice nodded while I just grinned. Wherever possible, I would be the man in the middle, and make sure that Alice wouldn't be in over her head – that's probably what Kenta implied to me.

But all that aside, after today's training session, JJ and Tiberius marveled at the sheer versatility of my power set: I had done more with it in less time than the "ultimate being" they faced before.

After the requisite "see you later" and "until we meet again", Tiberius handed me a black folder.

"The scale of your power will only bring you trouble in the future, Taylor," he said as I opened it to see a complete Speedwagon Foundation dossier on the Slaughterhouse Nine. "And as you often like to say, 'knowledge is power'. Best you be prepared."

I shook their hands solemnly before they waved goodbye.

 _I'm going to have to hope that I see them again._

 ** _Which means you have to prepare for what may happen if you don't._**

 _Exactly._

* * *

It wasn't very long after that when I placed the very important dossier in the safest place I could find – after making a few copies of it, of course.

One moment, I was securing the container into the hole I dug, and the next, I was a sobbing wreck on the ground, clutching my mother's defiled flute, filled with sadness and a wish to go back to better times.

I don't know how long I was lying there. Only that it was still dark when I just fell to pieces, and already morning when I finally caught myself – the voice only spoke when my crying fit had finally ended.

 ** _Are you done?_**

 _Sniff... I am._

 ** _You seem to have held in all the turmoil within yourself over these past weeks._**

 _Guess so... I don't know, I don't want Noelle and the others to see. Or my family. Or my friends._

 ** _Of course. My daughter would be a very insightful young woman. I expect no less._**

 _Thank you, I guess._

I rubbed the last of my tears away and stood back up, the broken flute clutched in my hand.

 ** _You could use your power to restore that instrument to its previous condition. As a way of honoring your deceased female parent._**

 _Thank you… whoever you are._

 ** _Call me Kars. It's been ages since I made my name known._**

 _Okay... Kars. Let's do it._

The yellow energy from my hand wraps around the flute, removing the imperfections, making the material remember its purpose and reverting it to its pristine state.

It took more effort than I previously thought, and the sobbing fit I had depleted my energy to the point I thought I could not finish it, but this was my mother's flute – I persevered.

And when I was done, it was once again whole.

This time happy tears coursed down my face as I saw my handiwork.

I replaced it in the container and thought that the day wouldn't get any crappier.

Unfortunately, by the time I was finished burying the container, the ominous sound of sirens echoed across the city.

 **Endbringer alert.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5 – END**

 **Author's Note:** In this fic, the Gesselschaft split off from Stroheim's group shortly after the emergence of parahumans. Their "shaping" is less "working on the brain" and more "encouraging the shard to work on the brain" – I already established a precedent for this with Bakuda and Alice being different people due to shard-brain interference.

Also, anyone who says that "Candy Pop" is a TWICE reference instead of a Heartsdales reference deserves to get the Steely Dan treatment.

And yes, Sarah Livsey / Lisa Wilbourn looking like a blonde Imai Lisa from Bang Dream? Totally canon in this fic.


End file.
